My shoes are wearing thin
I should go to the shoe shop
Find something new
But I can’t move
But if I can’t move
Why are there holes in my shoes
I close my eyes
It’s not dark enough
I close the curtains
Fucking light
Hand over stinking hand over face over mouth and I know I
will never make it to the shoe shop
I will never make it anywhere
Perhaps I do
Want a little fawning
A little pat on the head
A little well done you
Wishful thinking mixed with powder and dust and too much
light
Fucking light
I navigate the dead skin
smell lick taste
I am so close to it that it is unreal
Distant
I am distant
Cold
Words juggling cutting up my head
I have remorse
I have remorse
sorrysorrysorry
I am so sorry
That I have worn myself away
Worn everything away
Lost you
In the doors
In the toilet
In some basement with a couple of dogs and a running machine
And a gun
It was so gloriously dark there
A fine place to come to rest
Rest
That is what I’d like
I look at my shoes
The dark room is so perfectly light to see the holes
Right there
Worn down to the bottom
Worn down to the end.
