Melancholy


Melancholy
I ooze slowly through my pores like an eggy smell.
And I lie dried from another nights excesses.
Sleeping, no beauty, just hung-over,
Wishing the night sounds away as I choke on the foul air.
I think I saw a smile somewhere beneath the lazy covering of tears,
But I can’t be sure. My eyes sting tiredly and I long to retch most foully.
So I close my eyes to another nights capers.
Childish mutterings remembered bring a reddish tint to my cheeks.
No one is silent in this building of hollow stone, the clock’s ticking beats
It’s way through my silent reverie.
My head tightens and lips run dryly together.
I dissolve myself in designer bottled water.
And sleep through another week,
Opening my eyes, surprised I have jumped through so many days unwatched.


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