I’m distantly absorbed,
commuting...
One morning
you wake up...
My thoughts
are sharp like...
I don’t have a drinking problem.
I have a thinking problem...
Resist it.
Market coercion...
Blind slime abrasion.
Your unwelcome fruiting bodies...
Crashing through the gates of the mind...
This decaying mezzanine
rusted and green...
The caverns that hold
My depression...
"How many vicodin must be swallowed
To ease the pain inside this void...
read si' oui bien sûr
let it bleed,la mi amore...
I try to speak but words won't come
my thoughts are jumbled...