and this half life I'm too tired for
that I wake to watch and eat my way through
blue light and natural gas
one plague or another
taking what I can
and Frankensteining everything I see and hear and long for
gasping for more
exhaling to inhale again
another meal
another cloud
another boulder on the freeway
fingernails keep growing
in my dreams
in which each day feels as real as breath
that is to say
enough until the hypnic myoclonus (thank my phone for the expression)
and another Monday comes
one hand on my toothbrush the other on my phonescrolling my dystopia to life
cleaning my teeth I'm never alone
scrolling for affection
through my morning twilight zone.
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