The coldest winter came with a blast that took my breath away,
turning my words and emotional state visible.
For the life of me I have been miscast without a hideaway
wishing for the vultures dark drum and the crows dark cymbal.
I drop the bedbugs of my life into the spider webs of my memory
and wait for the monster to devour the vampire.
Both feast on my blood; the spider from the body of the night thief
that waits for the light to cease and my eyes to close.
Darkness falls like snow
and covers my mind in a shroud.
Soon I am going to kill myself with coke and antifreeze
because there is nothing that can comfort me.