I have come to cherish the lucky-dice nights when the Adderall just lingers, staying late—
much later
than times of near-lethal lethargy
that leads to interrupted comatose slumber

I’ve allied with the recurring habits of winning Most Sober of the Evening, for in my solace, I’m dropping the needle, dancing to Molly's Lips and kicking off damp, muddy socks

I feel somewhere—-myself,
a place you
may
have touched and try to burn a placebo curvature along a place you
may
once have ignited,
your artificial fingertips,
and trace the beginning of a word, but
I lose track where ever the middle
may
have been

Needle scratch, loop, stuck in one, or
many
grooves

Try to exhaust the corporeal, sway,
fall,
slam body against the wall

Memorialize yourself so no one has to,
Your storage-unit temple drinking from a dark green bottle

Shimmy with a crowbar, lift and uncover,
Toss it all in a trash pile
For God to rediscover