Oooh you're a naughty mess

ghost of a feeling

i
wake with a
fug in my back
brain

i sat
up last night, smoking
drugs and watching
music

i ate
sheets of salmon flesh drank
gallons &
glutted

i kept slipping
under, slouching my eyes
lolling into the back of my
skull

i now drink
black coffee and attempt
becoming
centered

something like a
ghost of paranoia is
licking at my
edges

(blue tongues)

sitting outside the air
reminds me of
simpler, happier
times

(do we not
remember how we
want?)