Grombies

I feel liek at any time I could just die. Melt into the earth and crumble into thick black sand. I’m just an empty body now. My soul is waiting patiently for its home to be fumigated. The termites are the monotonies of isolation. I don’t see nobody. No one sees me. I ain’t exist. Give me a job a robot would do and I’ll work for the greater period of an ass blastin’. My wife sold my truck. I can’t drive no more. Everyone is moderately ok while I am moderately dead. Who I truly am is currently in hibernation, and like the part of the brain that stays awake during sleep, I’m always here. Fiddling with knickknacks and wires. I can’t help anyone mentally or emotionally because my soul is closed, but I have hands, and arms, put me to work, please. Drinking blood just feels hollow now. The gimmick is now grimy. Imagine being so dead that you look back to a time when you drank blood and think “damn I was so much more alive then than I was now”. I have fallen from vampire status; to haunted corpse status. Haunted by the creature of light I used to be, and still could be. It’s floating around chained to my body like the one winged dove, sings a song sounds like she’s singan’. Like a balloon made out of my own heart. Except I’m not even Davy Jones anymore I’m barbossa before he fixed the curse. I’ll put the coins back when I... when uh... I don’t even know what I’m waiting for anymore... 

Don’t worry about being my next meal... I’m not hungry. 🧛🏿‍♀️