shadows dance around my room.
it's a party of darkness through which I must sleep. the noisy fists incessantly pound on fleshy white periosteum- I’m bleeding.
I'm gasping from inebriation and
blurred vision the party induced,
tripped up steps on drowsy meds- my memory, now abaited
replaced by these
dark guests
my chest
lurched, poised and ready to jump over the edge of my rib cage.
and I'd **** for water,
but all the bartenders offer
are straight jackets, quetiapine fumarate and more paranoia.
there's only room for one person in here.
but there are two voices I hear.
pseudoneurotic schizophrenia