I never thought about
Whether I meant something to them
I just
Left
To forget,
They were present.

Can't be hurt
If you can't even remember
Their face.

The first time I smelled the
Pang of death,
It took my breath away,
Stole it,
Befouled it,
Tainted my living flesh
With rigor mortis,
And the certainty of lungs.

Wafting out a
Lounging acrid bitter spasm
As I scrape the corpse
Of the coyote,
Off the highway
Into a garbage bag,
Limbs agape and asymmetrically bound,
In place.

Undertakers don't make coffins
For road ****,
And,
I unceremoniously dump them into
The trash.

Life is a reflection of death,
No one knows you passed on
Til someone tells someone else
So if I keep it to myself,
No one will know.

Till that bitter offal odour
Floats out my door
And,
Takes someone's breath away.

Every day is a
New catatonia
To meander through.

Sleeping too late,
In my own narcoleptic,
Night terror.

Maybe if I ignore
The outside world,
It will go away,
And I can die,
In peace.

Gone too late,
On borrowed time,
In my sleep.

I stare
Listless
Into the static
On the horizon.

As I lose myself
In a digital abyss.

The sun never rises online.