The Day I found I was a body
The Day I found I was a body,
I walked down to the river,
which ran by my house,
in a past now throttled,
with haze and haze,
and looked into the river,
my fever burning my insides,
my eyes turning,
and a slick viscocity filling my oesophagus,
as I swung from side to side,
world turning,
drying wet on my tongue,
the blood of my past,
undercurrent of my arteries,
wished for the birth of the morning
where I could wake,
and so,
I did.