i tore the words
directly out
in a mad dash
to hit a deadline
and now there is
only a gaping wound
where creativity
once flourished

the goddamned heat
and being my typical
bipolar abomination
has me hibernating
i wake and scratch
myself before taking
a long piss before
searching for words
and going back to bed
listless and alone
to dream of better
daze in the future
while circling around
the drain of the past

i am rundown and tired
emptied out with no
hope of a refill
except the old whore
time taking her sweet
time hiding these
old wounds beneath a
fresh coat of horror