I don't leave anymore

I am vacated, with my
head stuck out the window I

left the real world; prayers stinging my tongue.

purples and blues and black
orange green blue.

there is a basket of rotting fruit beside me.

the night is cold it
eats at my fingers and they surrender to
numbness and the
anticipation that tomorrow will
be somehow better
still teases my brain.

there is fire hanging above me.