bleached up

a relapse like bleach cocaine makes me feel clean

scrubbed from inside my body til intenstines melt

on the train i felt yellow and brown stained by you

trains are dirty places train bathrooms where i’ve

gotten drunk and high and thrown up and fucked

this time cut a line and casey jones’d that shit

but without the touch and the company it’s sterile

burns like snowflakes of racing thoughts staring

anxiety clouding and precipitating out the window

watching the world go darker as i went north

cheek on the windowpane nose running and crystalizing

turning tears into blood under the cover of my mask

—November 2021, Stanford, CA