Almost Dead
A gaunt face with lifeless eyes
stares at a lonely pale ceiling
counting revolutions of the gothic fan
still hands as insects sustain their stance
skin stained of yellow nicotene and black coffee
nostrils detect sents of mold and overfilled ashtrays
A tounge of sandpaper scores and scratches
in a mouth as dead as the day
gums bleed of hygene neglagence
cloged ears await a sound from the dust caked phone
But all bridges have been set ablaze
a hunger-struck stomach annoys with roars and bellows
and as a fly lands on my nose, I remember to blink
Copyright © Andrew Thomas | Year Posted 2005
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