even the birds seem static

red hot needles
distributed
through my guts
painglitter
grafted inside
my skull
another day
without the sun
every whisper
feels ominous
filled with
rusted hooks
slowly dissolving
packets of poison
in turgid flows
unpoetic apathies
sludge and muck
fill rubber tubes
aspirations
evaporated
on the steel grate
over this
confounded
steam powered heart.

i don’t know
what day it is
just that it is
another day
in the darkness
puking bile
onto the dayglow
painted streets
directionless
and trying to get
home.

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