Just The Same

An original poem;



Laid up in bed together
While the world outside collapsed
But, how does that matter?
Why would that matter?
How could I have known, that fucking mattered
When the apocalypse was in your eyes?
With every love sick, dope sick gaze growing
More sick
Red and bleeding hearts turned old and nicotine yellow
I can’t remember when exactly, did we
Decide to dispose of them,
And let confusion pump the blood through our veins instead.
Pouring liquor down our throats to extinguish the fires of heaven
Or maybe it was hell
With smoke pouring from my iris
I gaze toward the window and wish I still had mine.
We were bodies in a bed
Waiting for the burning star to rise
As if it could shed some fucking light
On our home and warm
This dead-end wind.
I could never tell if I was burning alive or freezing
But I guess they both kill just the same.