When you fuck a Fire

I text Matt something like
“I think I’m going to die tonight”
Again
What are you talking about, Alan?
What are you talking about?

I don’t sleep
I wake up and check my temp
Send out texts I shouldn’t
My oxygen is at ninety nine

“Matt, I think I’m going to die tonight”

Cause I fucked a fire
My ass is fuming 😤
Emissions crackle
Like Chinese factories
And smells like lumber refineries

What are you talking about, Alan?

Matt, I think I’m going to die tonight

Cause I fucked a fire
And she destroyed my life
She came like lightening
And I heard Ahkmatova’s thunder
Matt, I think I’m going to die tonight

What are you talking

Cause I fucked a fire
And if you do, baby,
Your penis will burn, baby, burn

Forsyth Street

Some days feel entirely normal I forget about the things going on, and then that night I wake up with symptoms that- after I've taken my temperature and and run my finger through an oximeter and had a glass of water- fade into black, back into the hypochondrial fever dream they came from

Skynet is fallen
I eek out the last process
A computation collapse
Smitten, bit-en

Forsyth Street's lights
Run by in red
(Nobody is out,
the souls are all cloistered
waiting for god)

I am crying
Running red lights
To get to yo

Temperature: ninety eight Fahrenheit
Oxygen: ninety nine percent

Youtube videos sent to friends
Articles read
Article read

A message sent

This couch

I hate this fucking couch

It’s blue and hard as fuck

I can’t read shit

My knee cries out in pain

I read in my loveseat

With the same light

That shined when you 

Whined

“I fucking hate how 

Depressed you are

Kill yourself”

I bought the couch with you

For you

I bought the loveseat with my bro

For me

You loved me for six months

He loved me for 16 years (!!)

It has beer stains now

It has ketchup stains now

Cums stains from people I can’t remember

Stains and stains and stains 

I sat here like a man in therapy

Staring at the ceiling

Staring at god

Pleading for reality to forgive me

For being susceptible to serotonin depletion:

Forgive me for serotonin depletion 

The couch hurts my neck

Swedish cushioning 

Loose cushioning

Noose cushioning 

“We fucked this” cushioning

The serotonin comes with

(Socially) Suicidal dreams

With the promise of escape 

From this fucking blue couch

Where we fucked 

Fuck