fade out
and here i am. back to my senses
stovetop benedict and ashes for breakfast
marble credenza, hardwood under carpeted floors
office fluorescent. carving copies til the carbon absorbs
i feel like i was here all night. honest, i swore
to god i woke up bedside at 11:04
to phone alarms and rapping knuckles pounding the door
calling as the raven did, so quoteth Lenore
opened it to emptiness save plaster and mortar
mattresses, apartment building :: caskets and morgue
death has other cousins in a relative form
blinked twice. shook it off. man, this fucking disorder
has me paralyzed. sterilized like needle exchanges
sleep in chains. awaken free of them with ice in my veins
bruises on my collarbone. mysterious pains
recollecting memories like thoughts from a grave
let me stay. perhaps nowadays i'll sleep for a change
wait. that's not right. it's almost sure i've been fading
in and out. without a doubt. seriously. maybe
who knows. leave me alone. i've got nothing to say
nothing to offer. nothing critical and nothing of praise
i'm stuck. recluse afraid of darkness casting a shade
shoulder blade a demon haven. drag me away
woke up bloody yesterday and couldn't explain
why i felt this way. searched for scratches or scrapes
made myself a plate of maple ham and potatoes
sat and concentrated so it wouldn't escape
straining for an image to recapture the frames
like swinging nets at butterflies blindfolded. it fades
gray matter destined for preemptive decay, let me rewind
otherwise it's just a matter of time. my clock is faceless
grandfather towers over with a bend in his spine
crushing us like table grapes when pressure's applied
"NODONTDIE" smeared in soap scum in the mirror beside
a set of vertical lines. tally marks in perfect alignment
stickmen on their sides, unrecognizable signs
collapsed and cried. bit my cheeks into a fleshy disgrace
to stop myself from falling asleep. or staying awake?
one of the 2. i wonder what i wanted to do
before insomnia blues. a carton of reds, a carton of blues
narcotic narcoleptic gnarled like harvested roots
remind me why i'm talking to you? here's the truth
i'm gentle, calculated, anxious, thoughtful, concise
jolting into consciousness caressing a knife
that's all i know. i'm sorry. i've been fading, you said
cliffhanging off the voice in my head
knuckles on my door. open, close, rinse, repent
fade in
and here i am. next to you, while you rest
deadman
__________________
Zack Wicks for president
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