I don't know why I take such little precaution when eating food that has the potential to end my life.
A reaction might be an uncomfortable way to die, but living with that heightened presence of quite possibly imminent "danger" might be even more so uncomfortable.
This would be especially true after surviving and experience of near-death, the stigma that already looms over my head in this regard would be even more obnoxiously present.
I gamble to feel normal is my guess.

As they talk of ******* teachers and eating ****
I contemplate where I might cut myself
if the righteous will and chance arose
Seconds of pain and otherly horror
were all that really stood between the absence and I

But words like that do little more that stain this page
and make actual the tainted thought
that is now setting in to my lead tongue
as frost is set on grass
**** that

Sanity wanes
and I do not know
what it is I honestly need
to avoid hours like this

That familiar static
rings insatiably in my ear
and the lights turn on

I walk the wrong hall
afraid and tired
to push myself through sounds and sights
that blind and deafen
and can't be handled
by a person as weak as I

And I am aware
consciously
to all the truth I spill

Does hate feel better here?
I used to not hate
let alone literally feel

THE LONGER I STAY, THE LONGER I'M LIKELY TO STAY HERE

It kills my high
when venom is spit
This enclosure,
unlike mine,
comes with a ****** narration

Mine hears birds and owls
wolves and crickets and bats
and sees quite often starlight
smells burning wood
regrettably the occasional crisp arachnid
Commonly scents of Cannabis Sativa, rarely Indica
Incense, and punks
There are sights of resin tables,
half-inflated air mattresses,
and ***** on the fence
Cling of fence gate
Car
Cry of relief or adventure
heat
sleep
aimlessness

Frozen water
"warms my heart"
and chills my fingers
beyond average motion
Maps of wind
and identifiable ice
tell me exactly where I am
and sarcasm
inspires these few words

Snow falls today
and trees through glass are bare
Circulation I will suffer

A dead concern is what
puts words on this page
Yesterday's warm failure
is these lines manifest
Incompletion does not
usually prove pride
Yet I am proud of her