i'm screaming.
can you hear me?
i'm screaming.
but i'm screaming calmly.

there's a ringing in my head,
maybe from last week's hangover.
my cheeks seem to be perpetually tear-
stained with ink.

i like to look in the mirror.
my nose seems flatter than usual today;
i guess pinocchio was just a fairytale.

built a home in a basement;
never thought that i'd need the light

days fall away, one after
another, and i smoke five cigarettes
before the pack burns out.

it can outrun me, you know.