He visited today,
The uninvited guest.
Refused to leave.
And yesterday.
Been here for weeks.

Longer?

A fixture, now.
Can’t shake or deter.
Not feeling well, either.

Age, or worse?

Weed ain’t cuttin it.
Just lie in bed.
Terrified of sleep.
Dreams are fucked.

Torturous.

Lots of toilets …

Lots of shit.

Immersed in excrement.

Naked, vulnerable, and helpless.

I relentlessly clean, flush.

Just returns.

Threefold.

There’s no escape.

I’m immobile.

Doc says it’s normal.

Insecurities.

Vulnerabilities.

Magic of the human body

And cranium.

I feel so much better now.

Blessed.

So convinced.

Normality exists within.

Cathartic!

Is this community?

Exodus!

This is not,

The dreams of old.

Candyland.

The promises consumed,

In endless pages.

Envisioned in darkened theaters.

Still believe.

Still dream.

Bullshit!

It’s been taken.

So tired …

Afraid to close my eyes.

He sneaks within.

Quietly tears me…

Torn small pieces.

He offers reprieve.

An escape.

Comfort.

Painless.

Black Angel.

Not Herbies.

All mine.

I don’t trust him.

Not yet.

He’s no friend.

I have none.

Lots of toilets …

Lots of shit.