before i leave i need to lay down in this bed one more time. i sleep too much. every morning comes with an abrupt awakening. coffee, food, pills, work. repetition. repetition. i know it changes, but i can't think anymore, and i swallow just because that's what i know i'm supposed to do. eventually, the day progresses to late afternoon and my body shoves fatigue into my eyes. i fall down and wrap myself in the bedsheets just to leave my body for a while, just to leave it to the lead bricks and sand bags. i slip through my eyelids after they're closed, decieved by the images projecting themselves in the inside of my skull. it dissolves reality. besides, all it does is sink to the bottom of the glass and start to fizz anyway. it just goes on, and you know you have to drink it because it's good for you. my eyelids are still heavy. i'll keep bliniking to let in the light but this road is so sedating, and time just can't seem to find its ending yet. so i'll just lay down to smother a few more hours...

we move
in this strawberry dawn
blind like love
and the words on a silent canvas
my breath clings to every thread
of your hair
and we gasp
to inhale time
as if these nights
will be the rest of our lives.

when you sang to me, it sounded like my eulogy carved out of a sandstone and granite suicide note.

we tumbled down the side of this embankment
lost and in shambles.
you drank yourself honest and
avoided my eyes, speaking your gaze
downward,
twisting yourself in the sheets.
'this future is a trap'
i told you.
some words are seamless in nature.
its lovely,
the abrupt concern in your voice
that told the alcohol to put you to sleep.
and somehow, i'm still laying here in peace.