i’ve cracked the code

yesterday was a miserable day of exhaustion and three tap dancing rhinos in my skull

coupled with a long day at work

i was in misery

so i ate four tylenol pm at seven

and promptly passed out at eight

and nearly stayed comatose the entire night

it wasn’t good sleep

but it was sleep

i dreamt i was the star of one of my favorite writers works

it was strange being a character and a person at the same time

unless there is a creature needed, i rarely cast myself

stuck with my strong suits

depression, longing, the greatest hits package

like a rock band from the seventies on tour now

no one wants to hear the new stuff

just play dust in the wind ten times and vanish again

as i sit here in wrath of sleeping pill hangover, unable to focus quite as well as i should, ready for another six or seven hours of mildly interrupted sleep

dressed and ready to face the day i don’t feel like facing

i want to go back to bed and be special in that fantasy world

not awake and headed to the county hospital to upgrade machines for the day

pretend there is a chance of sleeping with her in my arms

ignore the fingers of headache illuminating the edge of my head already

the traffic i am about to through myself into

parking garages and fake smiles for the day

small talk with the gun enthusiast

chewing flavorless gum and wishing for an escape

just drink another cup of coffee and listen to the birds

vapid little bastards singing to the sun that will one day expand and kill us all before going dormant and cold

we are all so screwed

it is going to be one of those days

surrounded by the ill, the blues playing softly on a channel only i am tuned to, angels and demons walking down the overly bright cooridors

it is a county hospital

so everything is a little dingy

more patients in restraints

cops with hands on pistols as they walk alongside wheel chairs

a sense of danger more than recuperation

a mishmash of divergent feelings

and me at the bottom of the waveform, unable, incapable, undeserving of seeing the high point

just wallow in the filth

wanting to scream or run away

choking on the bile and maintaining a good corporate synergy

off to the races once again

the tuesday blues

the week still new enough to have the promise of hope

but real enough to be tainted and bloated with unfulfilled promises meant to lead you forward but the carrot is rotten

tuesdays are the pinata of angry hornets of the week

mondays have that new car smell

tuesdays are the curdled milk under the car seat

the nuclear wasteland that spawns the zombies you spend the next three days running away from

maybe it is just me

coffee and headache shadow boxing as the sun turns the blackened sky to dull gray light

the map shows traffic already

i’ve spent enough time swirling the waters of temptation this morning

time to spend twelve hours roaming the hallways of suffering

and think about you