Wandering through the sunshine and moonshine, at a loss. The days pound at my brain.
The nights are numb, a shot administered by to my mind instead of the teeth. The news a daily anesthetic
removes life from my upper and lower limbs.
My partner a will-o-wisp, no forwarding address. The bends of our life too much for her, not enough oxygen.
Now, I think that I shall swim in my nightly shot and lights out.
What happened to this place we call home?
At a loss, the forest of waste surrounds me.