three am ambulances

a brick of
deep unease
bubbles in
my stomach
the hum of
angry hornets
a three in
the morning
painted the
living room
in flashing
red shadows
the diesel
vibrating the
molecules in
a desperate
symphony as
rolled out
three covered
corpses from
across the lot

i am sick
uncertain of
what i bear
witness to
trapped in
this insomnial
whirlwind where
the engine
vibrates all
elongated shadows
in flashing
crimson repose
is this part
of a nightmars
an illusion
from sleeplessness
multiplied by
nauseous aches
there is no sound
just the humming
of engines
drowning out
the sobbing
spectres bathed
in strobing red
as i watch

mondays introduce
the new hell
but tuesdays tend
to unveil the
true horror of
the spasming week
i wish i could
vomit the poison
swirling rapidly
that the humming
and corpses and
emergency lights
were mere figments
or maybe i am
the imaginary one
a phantom watching
the brick in
my stomach just
an anchor keeping
me tethered to
the plane of woe
bathed in crimson
as the ambulance
shakes soulscatter
to form dustdevils
sorrowfully ignored


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