I’m empty now and I need to keep throwing coal into the furnace or it’ll consume me. My grief, my loneliness and my guilt will burn me from the inside until I’m charred throughout. You know sometimes, even hours after my last cigarette, I’ll exhale and see the faint wisp of smoke.

The reaping of a god A body barely holding together Its viscera on my feathers Aren’t you glad you don’t have a Birds Eye view?