You don't know you don't know you don't know.
Woke up in a haze
a fog
Woke up in a dream.
An aftershock of the mesmerize.
A new god, a new shock, a new life.
Take a swig.
Drag a puff.
Beat him in the street.
No good. No worth. No price. No one.
Sold.
To the lowest bidder.
To whom I raise my glass.
And pour the contents out
like a gunshot
self inflicted
all over his new grand banquet table.
I'm coming for you.
And when I do
there will be a mess
of blood
and splendor.
I'm coming for you.
Always on your heels.
So long as
you
are,
the die is cast
the line is crossed
the cross is bourne
Dusted
like fingerprints
like my last sense of righteousness
like my last illusion of self.
Like that sunlight
coming through the window
beckoning
mocking
seducing
begging
Just another point to prove.
That they were all right.
And you belong...
you belong in that well lit,
empty room.
Where there are no windows.
Where you can't hear the birds,
or the kids on bikes.
Where you have no moldy dishes in the sink.
Where there is no job to turn you down.
No pretty girls to reject you.
No blood on the floors except your own.
No phone call at 4 in the morning.
No burnt pastries, no stuck pasta.
No fresh allergic reaction to the smell of fresh cut grass.
You belong in that old hell.
That jail cell.
That prison
with literal bars.
Smile
and greet that fresh new hell
with a smile, and a cup of stale cold coffee.
