(no subject)
It's the cold.
The way I don't feel a part of it. It doesn't notch deeply into bonecore, leaving air-pocket marrow much weaker each time I choose less against self.
It's tall cups of bitter coffee that taste thin like a cigarette-smoke dinner, side of relentless control.
(Two more hours 'til bed-time: eight smokes left. Five minutes to take each in, fifty-seven nervous ash-ridding flicks, exitingush, lay butt perpendicular to nearby sidewalk crevice, wait fifteen; remove cigarette directly to the left of last smoked, try not to jostle box, light with left hand, take lit fag with right, appear entirely disinterested in activity as I suck deeper to taste the mint I hope can satiate the hunger that I am clearly not victim to.)
It's the failure.
I'm a failure.
Living through another maddening season of ice-
preserved delerium is a sure sign that I did not succeed in dying.It's as if the cold saved it here for me, tucked carefully between stifled molecules, still thriving on the weight it knew I'd gain.
The way I don't feel a part of it. It doesn't notch deeply into bonecore, leaving air-pocket marrow much weaker each time I choose less against self.
It's tall cups of bitter coffee that taste thin like a cigarette-smoke dinner, side of relentless control.
(Two more hours 'til bed-time: eight smokes left. Five minutes to take each in, fifty-seven nervous ash-ridding flicks, exitingush, lay butt perpendicular to nearby sidewalk crevice, wait fifteen; remove cigarette directly to the left of last smoked, try not to jostle box, light with left hand, take lit fag with right, appear entirely disinterested in activity as I suck deeper to taste the mint I hope can satiate the hunger that I am clearly not victim to.)
It's the failure.
I'm a failure.
Living through another maddening season of ice-
preserved delerium is a sure sign that I did not succeed in dying.It's as if the cold saved it here for me, tucked carefully between stifled molecules, still thriving on the weight it knew I'd gain.