I wake up
Like
I go to sleep.
Scraping musty cigarette ash
Off my vocal chords.
A coal mine in my black lungs.

An ever present aftertaste
Of mould
Infects me, and I smell

****.

But that's just anxiety.
A schizophrenic smell.
Disassociated in my forgetfulness
I think, I remember
Rarely ******* in the sink.
But, I'm not paying attention,
Caught up in somehwere else.

Violently throwing up a cough
I purge the phlegm.
From out of my lungs-
And.
It's been really thick lately.
Oozing out my viscous soul.
Vomiting tar.
And smearing it all over myself.

With these dark tobacco stains
Pulsating formaldehyde through my veins.

And I'm
Baffled.
By my health.

It's good.

Just a little cancerous grime
Entrenched in my crevices.