By this point
my palms are rubbed raw and my
teeth are well ground
the time is measured in decimals
the sweet moment that might have never happened
The build up of self diagnosed sociopaths and self indulged narcissists.
More passion than any of the slightest seconds of any previous seconds
The heart beats in this awful rhythm because you know you won’t feel it again for the long time
Hold on to the moment you sumbitch
go home
jerk off
thats all you gonna do.
I felt myself melt
into street crack weeds
slowly seeping into city gutters
evaporating under the street lamps
turning to mud while mixing with roadside fifth
the incline has me meander under the feet of strangers, following them to the ends of the ends
stinking like a vagrant and feeling like the drunkeness saint incarnate.
In the morning
now incorporated
however something was missing
pieces of my brain or heart or soul
or something like that
and soon enough the other parts of me
found their way to a ceramic drop off
and my body was exit only
I reserved myself to a sweat bed of convulsions.
Backseats, Vodka. 