I have bones of glass, I can't take Life's knocks

During empty nights like this when my valium doesn't lull me into sleep, I sit up and write. Except tonight, my mind's finally at a complete blank. Spanish Sahara sings softly in the background, and I held this moment of peace and quiet tightly. At last, a silence in my head. From all that crazy thoughts that thundered through my head with the frequency of peak hour public transport exoduses, like freight trains crashing into each other at 135km/h, all that white noise cluttering up my brain and overflowing into my skin and enveloping my moods.

Forget the horror here / Leave it all down here / It's future rust and then it's future dust

I have acquired a taste for plain bread and bottled water. Prison food, they call it. Prisoners eat bread all the time. I eat bread too. Because I'm a prisoner of my own mind, of my own sanity or insanity.

And also because, bread and water are cheap. Perhaps, also because, I flushed my appetite down that toilet bowl along with the blood that was going to trickle down my thighs. Plip, plop, they drip into the water. How do you trust a thing that bleeds for a week and doesn't die? I don't quite fathom that concept either.