Spineless

TW: Implied self harm

i. dead night, hollow desk.

your lamp is a tacit limelight,

the paper in front of you is a death sentence in graphite, and you—

a

complacent paper puppeteer

strung

stung

slumped over artificial light and a dull

dull itch

ii. in your veins,

nausea, seasick, sickling

selfish 1AMs, yeses, i love yous and of courses.

retractable box cutter.

liquid

on the cold white tiles.

 –

iii. top of the morning!

routines keep you grounded:

water

fruit (fresh)

eraser shavings

yesterday’s trash to the unused side of the table

iv. gratification?

easy.

eyes out

for the green light in every nook and cranny—

yes. excellent.

of course!

‘well written’, ‘brilliant’,  ‘A*’ like morphine on a page.

v. back pain

past 3 PM – past the last ‘exit meeting’, the nausea oozes in,

air dense with molding dusk.

sedated

static

haunting

gnawing up your spine.