it's Monday night
the moon hangs above me in four pieces, small and fragile in the orange-black sky
muffled laughter seeps thru the ringing in my ears
I'm okay and I'm dying in the same breath.
I can't sleep
every smell and taste is too strong, and I flinch from them, and my hunger grows with each passing hour. time means little to me now. the world presses down on me like a million stones in avalanche
and look up at the quadrupled moon
and I wonder how long this life will last