in my mind's eye
my own body falls
to the ground under
medeival daggers
in a hypnotic rush,
the same way on the darkest and most exhausted days,
slipping under a subway car feels like it would be a relief.
this mind's eye business is scary indeed
and the sidewalk beaten,
the asphalt long,
the coffee thick and dark and sultry,
the tingling necessary,
the chirping late spring ironic
and all of it, all of it meaningless,
the high over in an instant,
the city indifferent and wailing.
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