#TBT

And given nothing, left with the same
too tired to let my own rage well up inside me
I let it sit and fester at the bottom of my gut
not rage, too exhausted for anger
infection
some virus or bacteria, flesh eating
succumbing to it, sloth-like
wanting just once to be saved
without having to cry out for help
and I wait for it
like Moses on Mt. Sinai
I want to fall to my knees, give my life over to God
but they are too bruised already
and I fear they won’t hold my weight
bitter chalk sits at the back of my throat
comfort in a child proof vial
limbs too heavy to lift up
and wipe the sleep from my eyes
head too heavy to shake away true dreams
that will come later, and with no explanation
show me my one true love
show me this divine plan
but don’t come unannounced
disgusted by the state of it
this valley of the dolls
this bay of pigs
there’s dirt in my bed
and I can’t remember who put it there
clouded
the stench of ammonia and plastic
burn a hole in my brain
self inflicted dementia, genetic delusion
I won’t walk barefoot in this house
I won’t break bread at the table
for fear I‘ll find bits of Dr. Thompson’s brain there
I won’t answer the phone at 3 am
for fear a late night suitor will want in
through the back door, into the junkyard
out through the front, contemplating on the doorstep
with hands in his pockets, unclean and shamed
this will never be written in a notebook
for all prosperity or just a few well meaning offspring
the truth of this having come to me months ago
in a moment of sobriety and feeling
the pressure of it sitting in my chest
afraid to scream out loud
or breathe in too deeply
for fear my lungs will split open
so I live short of breath
turning over in this kennel
in this rabbit hole, this cave
this dirty bed, this leaky toilet, this blown speaker
building up a tolerance
to this loss, to this weight
to this ignorance, to this mountain
to the smell of airplane pussy
to this air I breathe, polluted and heavy
with fumes.