The Aftermath
Words no longer come easily
... or with force for that matter.
The names of things
... are jumbled,
I call them by other names.
The real names miles away.
... did I ever know them?
There is a swimming, whirling, gurgling
Constantly preoccupying my thoughts.
Walking takes work.
Each step, labored to be in front of the last.
Straight lines just don't happen.
... did they ever?
Clothes don't fit.
... when they all come from the second hand store, how could they?
I no longer wash my hair,
Brush my teeth
... what's left of it or them.
I don't know the last time I took a bath.
... why should I even bother, really?
Lipstick on a pig, right?
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