I lay awake.
a thousand thoughts like spider webs, growing ferrous crystals,
I see them, brown, ferrous, and heavy, electroplated by the sick
by the sixteen hour days half-awake, and eight half-asleep
all my life has been a vision of mediocrity.

I lay awake at night, in poison, around poison
until I am so saturated that every exhalation is poison
every touch is hard and cold
every stare ...

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