snow

you're so fucked up right now
and all you can drink is coffee
but your nose is in the air
and i have smelled your stale breath
for weeks inside my lungs

the moment you open the door
a fly sucked in by the death
and an old loaf of bread
or was it the meat you left
on the counter
to drown out the silence in your head

a trickle a tackle a mortified bottle
a drop of morpheus

this is good
i can feel it
your stare becomes ignorant
your breath sweet
and sappy like berries
so ripe in the sun
i feel that this is the end
for a berry is ripe
only a short amount of time

you say things like potion
and i don't understand
so i start to wander the hall
something dried
maybe a fly
or possibly a spider
it dried on the wall by your head

as your eyes turn to glass
my drink falls to the ground
your teeth sharpen
is that a sound
that you make with your heart
when you feel it break
but you don't know
if you felt it
or heard it

and then they turn to wood
and scream
like a tree falling falling and end
the bug will be scraped
the coffee redone
and inside the meat and the bread
lies your teeth
and that is all
you said