3rd April, 2019

I’m deteriorating.
Melting.
Coagulating.

Faster than the bacteria on that cheese sandwich he made me
The last before leaving

For a swim then.
Forever,
after.

My parts are fusing into the other.
Passing on their responsibilities.

Faster than Nanna’s Custard-Jelly.
The one she made on her birthday.

Her last supper.
Our last,
anything ever.

A few neurons left crackling.
Set aflame by words
slowly dripping an illusion of euphoria

Slower than that last doze I jacked up
to make this poem live
to make this end - end.  

reminder

Flowers always smell good. 

Even in pictures. 

Flowers look pretty,
Even in death.