oxy

it starts at your temples and cries

all the way down to your thighs

in blue rivers under your skin warm

against the cold and clammy sweat

chin on your fingers ears on the wall

emotions pasted like heat sensing

fingerprints all green and wet and

hibernating on the painful voices

it’s a wednesday so no classes

wednesdays are the peak of

the high like a week where

you lost track of time days

and we stare at the ceilings

but we is you and you is me

and i wake up and it’s friday

it creeps back up tingles scalp

like the bass of a song you

listen to alone before sleep

you keep the pills in the pillowcase

the addiction fairy comes to give

you sleep and a chance to escape

plants grow out of your spinal fluid

rocking you like a wagon wheel

in your half awake sleep

mercury is out of retrograde but

the drugs still fill the lucky minutes

i’m getting more and more nauseous

the dance moves chase out paranoia

fingering the 4d music notes

doesn’t bring back what was played yesterday

i press my temples and all

the eyes and mouths between them

scream and disintegrate 

—October 2021, Stanford, CA