self consumption

i laid awake
for three hours
waiting for the sun
to kiss me good morning
only for the skies
to never brighten
the same feeling
as sitting alone
all evening hoping
i was actually real
only to shuffle off
to a medicated nap
with a loose feeling
of hopelessness
blanketed over
the intangibility of
a figmented fool

no longer able to
tell if the ache
in my skull is an echo
of the creator’s folly
or a signal it is all
collapsing around me
supping on emptiness
in autophagic relapse
tearing myself to pieces
trying to figure out
if there is anything
in this fleeting malaise
worthy of salvaging
a series of crumpled
rehashed memories as
the flames lick hungrily
at the perimeter of
my last strangled gasp

i dreamt of it again
that stupid fire truck
too hot too handle
in the smoldering ruins
of a childhood taken
as i lay unable to sleep
yet not fully awakened
trapped between the two
in a heightened state
of my own self consumption

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