Relapse

The devil's fingers on a cold black heart

Tell me who I really are

Numb to the birds, pollen-carrying mammal

Splash in the quicksand of doom

To the bottom of the cup, eyes shut

Suck on the inhale, cough drop cherry

Three laughing noses, picture, and picture reality shakes

Box, shake, box, shape, pop, folding laundry

Cooking dinner, tell me that I'm not a sinner

For this week's contest, try not to die by your hand

Or another, a brother who knows no brother

A son who hasn't talked to his mother, a possum

Splayed wide open, its guts steaming, piping, burning, hot 

On display for all to see, lightened by the car's beams

Blast, my insides are all over the street like words on a page

Clenched, cracked, gosh, smack, waves burst like

Fireworks foaming in the sky, and time

All behind me, as the devil's fingers — the devil's fingers —

Around my cold black heart — the devil — tells me who I 

Are