The sun cleaved into his eyelids.
He stuttered into life.
Showered with regret and shame
He toweled himself down.
He stared into the mirror.
And readied his venom,
To spit again.

Hello?
Are you there? I've been thinking about things.
About what you said.
Did you mean it?
What you said?
It was nasty.
Horrid.
I'll speak to you tomorrow.

His rotten sleeves waft in the wind
Sleepily staining the air
He swirls in his stench
Flouncing in stink
Hatefully spinning his song.

Wildly turning
His zombie breakdown
Bellowing a gutteral noise

He spins till he bleeds
Staining the earth.
The onlookers gawp at the show.

The circle slows down
His pulverised ankles
Can no longer keep up the dance.

He slumps in a puddle
A grave of his making
A corpse
A posterity curse.

Crying into the bath
It soaks its sponge.
The pink lather writhes in its fingers.

Bleeding from the wrists
It dabs tentatively.
The sponge adds red to pink

It soaks the sponge again,
In the vat of redder bubbles.
The copper scent claws up its nose.

Its arms loose grip
Of the cleansing sponge
Its mind fades red to black.

Insanity slipping through
the cracks in a chapped lip grin.
Its all ok
It was never ok.
It will never ever be ok.

Just say cheese.

Are you not happy?
All alone?
This is what you wanted?
All along?

Deafened by silence.
All alone.
Burned all his bridges.
On his way home.

Calamity up the nostrils
In tidy little lines.
Chaos behind the eyes
In sly uneven smiles.