I'm dying,
Feeling the comforting cloud of death
doing flip-flops through my strain.
Energy bursts are useless attempts
        at frosting flakes of panic and regrets.
Slipping.
Forgetting.
Curt instructions from a dangerous smile.

Cloud of death. Your mysterious tension
             caresses every
              blood-vein in my body.
My lungs restrict,
my lungs constrict.
Empty shallow boxes
      filled with the nothing of
          resistance.

Can’t anyone see? Does anybody know?

Does
    anybody
     have the
      slightest idea
       of just how
        tiresome
         paying
          attention
           can be?

So let me go. Leave me alone.
Let the fibres of believing unravel,
          slip apart
            like
             cracked glass
             about to
              shatter.
I'm hurting.
Disillusioned membranes zoning into silence.
The self-illusion so palpable and strong.

End. Stop. No more.