it is at this moment
immaculate and whole
but void and speechless
teetering precariously
on the edge of
absolutely nothing
that it is not easy
to work out
which way
is home
it is at times like this
post-performance
womanless
that there seems to be no choice
but self-annihilation
by any and all means necessary
bring weed, bring wine
bring heroin
or fuck me
it's as simple as that
Little Flower Book by Wayne Myers