The Living Dying

I have my reasons
to stay here all the time
alone, you might think, but really
I have the best company ever
I have the ceiling
twisted by my mind
I have the sky outside
and the clouds on it shaped like
a figure smoking
killing themselves slowly like the blood
inside my own veins which is
just like poison
and of course, it’s called dying that
my heart will stop beating very, very soon
and living means working just for that
(always looking forward, out at the horizon)
a fantasy that might be gone by tomorrow
entwined with my imaginary friends Acid Rain
and Ampersand
(they’re very nice people;
You should try to
talk to them
if you can)
in a turmoil of paper, glue and scissors
stitching the future together with
bits of past and present and
bits of knowledge, bits of insurance…

My body is withering
Ampersand
I’m living for today, my
Acid Rain
I’m saying goodbye to everything
all day
Ampersand
every day.