Should I ask the muse, why?
I draw long on that first cigarette of the day
The one that gets you heady
An excuse that its needed as you spin on the top
Just an observation on the presence of meaning
I don’t need to run with the pack today
Much needed sip of coffee draws the caffeine in
Fires several deadened synapsis
Killed in the last line of war
Or that whiskey bottle that lies on the floor
Several breathes are taken to expel the taste of licking the floor
Its cold down here surrounded by walls
Sitting in the corner of this dark grey room
Hey
Remember those first cold days
Living in memories breeze
Scratch a barely stubbled chin
Dismissed as an afterthought in the blink of an eye
Whats the promise when Im going to die
Hell we all are
Scattering several cockroaches matched by ash drops
Leaving me in my misery
Stains on the ceiling traced out in a sickly tapestry of a world less believing
Hold me and come close lest I freeze
Stick my fingers in my ears and see if I can fly
But these feelings pass on a whim
Fucked if I will let you in
Probably just burn as the others have
The ones that Ive let in close
Seriously I pause as I light another smoke
Taste the heat on the back of my throat
Who was the first that felt slipped in my sin
Did I ever know love like this
Married to the sky dusted in shades of rudimentary black
Passed in a time forgot staring inanely at the walls
Hoping it would wipe a remembrance like the spider as it crawls up the wall
In the hope of a quick easy feed
What the fuck is this stench that passes these nostrils
Drenched in my own fetid refuse
For I fail to live everyday
I have forgotten
How to wake in the morn
I have forgotten how to talk to another man
My lips stitched shut to keep the pressure within
But fuck it all Im dead within
I need to brew me up some more caffeine