“This is the last,”
I promise myself.
At that dusk moment
Pale sky
Tracking wet prints
Pacing.
And Michael, he’s sleeping.

Tap. Tap.
Flick. Flick.
Ash on ground.

I’m gilding my
No-sleep halos
With gobs of
Mascara and
Loading the bitches
With meaning.

While in reality,
I’m just a caffeine addict
Unable to acquire
Prescribed amphetamines.