the comfortable shirt
hidden
amongst the skeletons
in my closet
is made
of fire retardant
asbestos
every time
i slide it
over my head
i can feel
the carcinogens
permeate
the porous surface
of another day
spent thinking
oh poor me

there is something
soothing
about ingesting
poison
and
calling it
the cure
maybe because
at least
poisonous products
have
a guaranteed success rate
whereas
the typical cure
has side effects
unbeknownst
to the imbiber
of magical potions
so maybe
the poison
is the cure