She lingers behind hidden street corners-
in the front garden, at the very top, barely visible-
in closets of rooms I find myself most comfortable in

She hums an eerie hymn that is muffled
through the walls of the house
but is echoed through the streets
following me - every time I try to leave

She waits for moments of uncertainty
to burn me with the crimson end of a smoking cigarette

not once
not twice

enough to bring me to the ground pleading Her to stop

Her words, cruel, reminding me of every decision I shouldn't have made
Her hands feel like cacti, they stick into my skin with one touch,
Her hair like snakes, engulf my body and wrap tightly around my neck, She whispers in my ear:

"Dont worry, I'll take care of you for a little while"

This time feels different

It's time to surrender

i write my best poetry when i'm high on drugs
the endorphins in my brain, i mean...
maybe sometimes i mean the sensations in my body of

spinning

nausea

uncomfortable
shaking

i come to this conclusion every time
i fight the demons i've tried so hard to bury in graves deeper than six feet -

it doesn't ever get easier

there might be a "green flash" when the sunsets on the west coast over the ocean

but it's only for a moment

only enough time to see
once
(before you blink)

a phenomenon
that moment
of perfect
*******
timing

who knows if either of these things are real
or just a figment of our imaginations