everything about me feels
decrepid

like an
ancient can of paint
cracked
and seperated
i'll pollute
without intent

i miss
the confusiion
being one
with my thoughts

i miss the inability to
recognize
my own disassociation
the milky white opal
of absinthe
the clouded
dragon of abstinence
i miss you all
though i
am too enraptured to see

i can breath in short gasps
a mystery
to hold on to and

exhale
one last time
before
dropping into the crushing void

i miss you
stuck here on the
edge of eternity
close enough to
be
forever.