a sip of milk before bed

the milk is
curdled with a
sour film of filth
fat black flies
wobble lazily
rubbing their hands
eager to taste
the putrefaction

a stale wind
rustles the brown grass
a high squeal
pierces the dusk
as a rusted swing

the night pours
across the sky
in rivulets of tar
swallowing the light
leaving only
the wan reflection
across sinuous shadows

the darkness seeks
to drown me
as the worm turns
flashing razored teeth
drifting lost
a shade
haunting a lonely stoop
mother depression
sapping the warmth
from pale flesh

the stars reflect
the soulshattered remnants
as i fall to pieces
unable to find
the peace
so willfully left

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