I cannot feel a goddamn thing besides
my fucking tingling legs and tingling heart.
My body is numb, deadened from abuse
inspired by the years of the abuse.
I cough up new fluids every day. But hey,
they let me know I'm still
alive. Cough cough up all the stuff in my
lungs but hope the
stuff deeper down stays down because I lost
I cannot feel a goddamn thing, besides.
And everything fades and keeps fading and will keep fading and this never ends. It just sinks another level lower. Just another bruise I find in the morning that Heaven doesn’t know where it came from because there’s no light left. There’s an unending darkness confronting me at every sign of a return. This is only month three and it’s only getting worse and I have another stomach ache. The nausea stopped being existential about half an hour ago because now it’s just vomit. But after I purge it’ll all be better for a few minutes. I promise you in those few minutes we can start all over again. I’ll try again and we’ll see where things go. This time it’ll be better. This time, I promise, we’ll all be fine. And we’re not fine, no. And everything fades. It hasn’t faded yet. I can see the streams through the streams. Sweating and freezing and shaking and hiding and everyone’s out to catch me now. A pariah, I have stolen the robes of. I’ll tell you this isn’t me, and these aren’t my robes. You’ll tell me this is, and I guess you’ll be right. The room won’t stay still, and I guess neither will I as I cover the outside with the in.
The world was so wide, so great, and so real
you could reach right out and touch it. You could
feel rain, taste sweet, admire the greatness.
Perhaps all good things must fall into
forever inevitable, so
take one shot so the world gets a
bit smaller. Take one more as dreams
become the better half of
life. So small becomes the world.
Walls close in. The ends of
the Earth come into view.
sets in with brief gasps
in between. The songs
fade in and out
and the world gets
so small. Repeat
those words. One
last time. Just