there is a
line of
razor wire
attached from
the back of my
right eye
to the center
of my brain
and when i blink
a nauseating
wave of pain
and remembrance
triggers my
bilateral
vomitation
center

the past is
my least favorite
vacation spot
yet i linger
in sepia miseries
far more often
than is likely
recommended

these nights
spent alone
when the dark bedroom
is half
haunted sepulchre
there can be
no relief from
the smiles as taut
as the razor wire
slicing my mind
etched on faces
bloated with sadness
as i fumble
for the lamp switch
to banish
these hungry shadows
back into their graves