whilst off my face

i'm in a shoebox-shaped room lit by TV fuzz
green walls (dinted, scarred, peeling)
wooden floor (cigarette burns and unidentifiable stains)
red couch (sagging, smells like semen and bile)
6 ex-bourbon bottle candleholders (crumbling wax and spiderspit)
the air is secondhand smoke and dust motes (mites?)

my insides are scraped purple raw (no more, please no more!)
my mouth has been stretched as far as it will go (now limp and dragging, gagging)
i've peeled my fingers to the bone (hoping they were keys)



my eyes are filled with sugar and teeth
and vodka, because I forget everything bad and add exclamations to all my words and would embrace every passerby
(everything is 8octaves higher, 8seconds faster, 8degrees hotter)