breaking somewhere inside gods fingerprint,
the identity of a nation of one is slowly revealed.
a dream, shattered from one road trip too far
returning to a bed littered with barbituates and razors.
bottles make a spread of colored glass,
and soon the colors will blur,
a glorious chimera of every death ever survived.

a footstep on a staircase to a better home,
but i'll tell you, one of these steps is faulty.
an endless spiral to a consciousness,
lost and tortured into its own hellish demise.
i will sleep with the lights on,
so i can see the needle drop or the
bottle cascade down the bedside, or the
spoon gently tap out one beat on the floor.
a distorted reflection stares back,
as the rainbow starts to fade.

lost in all this fragmented state,
the reality from an identity is brought back
into perspective.
this bed is a matress of blades and pills.
i've had a restless night,
and these remedies are nearly gone.
another survived dream,
another scarred result.
and nothing ever gets solved-

get out of bed, with one more night to do it over again.

08/09/2003

Posted on 08/10/2003
Copyright © 2025 Andrew S Adams