Nearly bled to death
In the downstairs bedroom.
Read pretty worlds but the signals won’t fire
Touch beautiful women
But the peak won’t come
Its left for the clouds.
Ménage a trois, boredom, dépression
Drain the life out of glass eyes
Stop eating and take to the dream world.
Nothing left here.
I am a walking disease
Poison shivers, chemical twist.
Necrosis spreads to the heads
Of nearby friends
And their thoughts drizzle polluted rain.
I don’t want to hurt you
I couldn’t live with destroying you.
TJ Brown 2014