spots dance
in the corners
of my vision
black bloated flies
in random states
of fucking
crowding in
thick oblong
orbiting dementias
tinting the world
in varied shades
of purloined
virtuous sin

i didn’t get out of bed today
with the intention of
running head first into the
walls my limitations have set
but i will be good and
goddamned if my head isn’t
cracked and thoughts of you
go spilling across the ceiling
as i try to not pass out