feasting on the corpse of dream

there is a crushing
exhaustion that comes
with this never ending
cavalcade of incessant
cluster bombs exploding
in the hollow regions
where happiness once
mistakenly thought
to flourish
the salted soil groans
as new rows are tilled
seeds cast haphazardly
into the darkness where
the sunlight never
quite manages to reach
yet blackened thumbs
still strive for one
grand harvest

i slept
a restless coma
unmoving for
six hours straight
only to wake
feeling exactly
the same as i did
the night before
the pressure
unrelenting
a loop of static
overlaying
the three note refrain
trumpeted from
the trees outside
of mornings spent
shuffling along
sipping coffee
blowing kisses
clutching my temples
while wishing
for peace
as the war rages

nine months
to the day
yesterday
if it werent for
her and the kids
i may have gone
even further
into madness
checking and rechecking
for any word
on the blood spattered
work of mostly fiction
yet silence rang out
cold and demure
and still i sit
locked in stasis
unable to write
because the fucking
magic eight ball
blurry letters in
blue liquid
mockingly call out
try again later
so i do
ad nauseam while the
clustered tumors vibrate
through my skull at the
speed of insidious thought

i walk the rows
kicking up clouds of dust
seeking a sign of green
in the sallow fields of hope
expecting the worst
yet knowing
deep deep down
i have no true concept
of the bottom of the barrel
as i freefall clumsily
into a new day
marking new layers of strata
winking at the demons
as they scurry through hell
black bloated flies
feasting on the corpse of dream

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