The frigid jaws of insomnia were

sinking their

jagged, crystallized teeth through my

waist and

I could feel them making their way

into the bones of my spine and

through my hips,

crushing bones into chips and

powder.

 

I stood 

paralyzed and unwilling to

shake off this wretched nothing

that haunted my dreams

and waking life,

and unable to even if the

will to was lacking.

 

I wasn't suffering for my art's sake,

that's the oldest lie

and con

in town,

your life was the real show of art

and the madness

suffering

and dysfunction was always

on its

own.

 

How very human.