Drunk on wine and blue cheese,
Cigarettes rain down hill,
On these sheets full of sleaze,
Sloshing, and I standstill.
Skin you of your being,
So I may also be free,
With your new eyes seeing,
Losing the need to flee.
And red stains my teeth brown,
As a rotted flower,
And a sheet is my gown.
Patient in my tower.
The ivy crawls up legs,
Itching a long gone dream,
And dinner is the dregs,
Of a murky coal seam.
