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CondensationAs my options fade one by one, the path I tread narrows. Endeavouring to shed grief, I strip away the whole. Everything I used to be, every nonsense every truth. Wrapped and tied, the boxes locked. The last modicum of self-respect staggers into oblivion. All those faces melt away. All sensations drain. But even numb is a feeling. And what I find sleeping under the nothing. Makes my stomach heave. I have attained a lower state. Hope expended, bereft of zeal. Malignant thoughts taper my soul, Supping misery in this spoon-fed trammel. Filling the blackest nights, with blight akin to miasma. This floor is cold. The sleep is never still. Attune my ears to the shrilling drift. Wait for the sun to take my chill. But the light tears my wretched eyes. I see only the dark, feel only in negative. Condensing discomposure, Must I wake tomorrow? |