T-cells counting down
the immunity's response,
marrow has gone stale
with no resistance.

The tourniquet cuts off
a life that used to bleed,
with each passing drip
into an I.V.

In a ward overcrowded
Patients confounded left distressed
While overworked essentials crave rest
But the best they can do is a guess
Smiles of comfort not even seen through the screen of PPE
And machines that help them rest
As they take their last ventilated
Breath.

A big gentle man
Cracks on with his plan just
To survive as any man can
In a hotbed pandemic
Hatred endemic for his kind
Devalued in life and in death
He is stopped blind
Takes his last suffocated
Breath

A pleading young mother
Kids scream at each other
It’s all too much for dad
It’s a rage and he’s had
A few and that’s not the least
Can’t get away from the beast
She covers her bruises
Picks up her youngest
And
Hopes she can get through the worst
Hot blood on the cold knife
Sweet murdered wife takes her last
Breath

Stagnant Suffocating confinement
The unrelenting walls closing in-
Hale, exhale; Zoom yoga and baking dough
Obliged to show forget the death
For a brief moment you
Took away my
Breath.

That tightness in your chest,
the heavy weight that resides there
Is it because you're sick?
desperately gasping for air

Or are you being condemned?
declared as guilty
The plaint you carry
no stranger would it be

Oh god...
Please no, not this
Just breathe slowly and
Hopefully it'll go away, then
SHIVERS spark beads of sweat
The pain inside you'll never forget
Hot and cold, breathe in and out, then
LURCH
   Oh God Why?? I'm
CH...Oking on my
       I n s i d e s
CO....UGH I can't FU....Cking breathe
My God is it ove.... Rrrrrrr...

Breathe... Just breathe
Spit and wipe the tears from your face
Sweat in my eyes burns like
The acid in my throat but
At least it's done...
At least I hope

Funny the older I get the more I find myself changing
The ways I hurt myself always change, different pains. Same vices

As appealing as seeing my blood make those strange designs as they drip down my arms sounds.
It’s becoming harder to hide the wounds.

Maybe it’s the self doubt? Challenging myself on the most minor choices. Eating away at me.

Becoming obsessive over friends, strangers, anyone really.
Knowing I’m not their problem.

Or maybe it’s the drugs, the same ones that keep my brain at bay are the ones that make the grey matter rot,

it’s all about moderation, and tonight I have none.

I’m on a drive,
I’m smoking a cigarette
I’m hearing very little
I’m feeling even less
Wonder if I’ll see the engine stop, I wonder if these keys will enter my pockets again.

I wonder if the lights fade out or if it’s a cut to black

New weapons.
Same vices.
Good night.

unwashed shrimp; sick pink wishes
putrid puking and hot weather flashes
headaches and nausea for forgetting me
raw plates of karmic misery, i drank too much

I'll weather it with you through the phone
congealed seafood skies when i was alone
bred the bacteria that made you so ill
petri dish summer, i never wanted
to **** you, i drank too much

forty degrees like a tenerife beach
maybe from now you'll remain within reach
below the surface marine life bubbles
the fish of my thoughts will swim out of trouble
from now on
maybe I won't drink too much