We Were Usually Naked

I look down and everything appears empty.
I look faded and weak,
like I need to draw myself in,
make myself new,
and peel off the top,
and start again.

This shiny bracelet reminds me of what I gave away.
I dream I put on your ring,
and fear the embarrassment,
of being found out.

And now I suffer a time of addiction,
as the computer screen offers its rejection.
Weak addictions,
abysmal,
like this blank canvas below me,
stained with the smudges of frustrated charcoal.

I never liked drawing with charcoal.

Weak addictions,
like air conditioning,
like smoking,
like drinking, but not quite enough to successfully forget.

Like you,
and like this...

You say the little people don't know,
but I feel I know more in solitude,
than I could ever know,
talking to you.

I am in love with time again,
and the vanity of keeping used condoms in the frame of existence.

I shall burn all that was,
and successfully forget.