THY HAND TIGHTENING THAT NECK

Severely dulled...
with a hand
strongly subdueing
a throat
and the other
pressing the play
key.

The music finally
sounds
and I search for
my wallet
(without letting that neck go)
to buy some
cigarettes.

I start my day
with two of them
and a black coffee,
it is not easy to
wake up
to this
shit.

This apathy,
this disbelief...

No, it is not
love.
Love has got
nothing
to do with
this
world.
How can such a
delusional,
threadbare
concept
fix
anything?

I need to swallow
but I can't.
The lack of air makes
purple bubbles
on my
thoughts...
I have not realized yet
the neck
is mine,
as mine is the
hand
that strangles...