I can’t tell if I’m awake,
or not done dreaming

All I ask is, when will I awake
from this never-ending nightmare?

Perhaps death is
my only awakening

In the morning,
alone,
I plant a pill
on my tongue,
and it blooms
like a chemical kiss

In the afternoon,
I wash my face and
wounds with blood

At midnight,
the rain pours
on my pillow,
but I don’t weep

Every night,
I sleep in the burning house,
but cannot feel its warmth