I've spent nights sitting

tireless on the dull paved road,

in the centre of that world

emptiness had known

the enslaved child of my stomach.

I gulped down the bottle of Advil

like it was Buckley's cold medicine,

maybe that if i took it fast enough

the sickening flavour would run a marathon

off of my tongue, sink into my gut

relieve the rapid rage skinning my blood.

That maybe the pain

trapped in my mouth could

use scissors to cut along the dotted

line that wraps around my neck.

The release of the cold

never comes.

The strike of headlights had

chased my eyes into insanity

caught me dead on in the dark depths of depression.