Lying there for / what felt like days
Breath hung / caught at your throat
Hands wrenching / at my chest
Skin blisters under pressure / sandpaper-like terry cloth
There's a deep-seated method / to this madness
Dagger's versed / and well rehearsed
Counting failures / tallied ill-wills by
Seconds, minutes, hours and days
This death-rattle hangs like a slow rolling breeze
Late winter cracks to the psyche
The alien light / of late February afternoons
Thought I was flying / I'm just falling down again
Teeth chipped, skin split, fresh wounds
Disaster's routine / carrion stench
Fills me / with descent
Disaster's routine / sweet scent
Filling me / with dissent
In a season
Season of separation