sometimes when i get sad
i sit on my bed and stare at the wall
i count every impression and dip i see in front of me
until i lose myself in how monotonous the task is
i stop thinking and analyzing and evaluating

then, when the sun has set
and my room is drenched in the dark blanket of the night
my mind returns from its absence
from whatever vacation it took
and everything sets back into normal motion

but somehow, im always missing a small piece of myself
on the trip back every time
i lose myself a little more

Blacked out again,
unsurprisingly,
swallowing the room.

Spinning in a lucid dream,
blessed to consume.

Breaking into.

Ash shadows
drill bit chest
I am not your savior
I am a suitcase bomb
I only devour
breathing fire

and I will apologize to no one
for doing what I said I would.