(un)restored

the dog was foaming
straight hysteria down his jaw  
blue blood bred  
proud  
and killin raised in the genes  
pit bull over on Sycamore  
watched me  
like I was a perfectly symmetrical unclaimed line  
on the living room floor  
so I knew  
Mr. Crazy Eyes  
couldn't be trusted  
just like a pack of smokes  
discarded two feet from a dumpster  
that wasn't there  
before  
four twenty seven  
AM  
neighbors time  
 
I wonder how long it took god  
to decide it was meant to be litter  
or if god watched as an angel  
slid down my esophagus  
systematically filling my violated cavities  
with a sense of heightened felicity  
until I swelled  
from the shear blunt trauma  
of dissipating faith  
hammered back into my judgement  
and I felt a schism of reality  
creep back into dark recesses  
I was forced to recognize  
as guilt  
and redundance  
and the feeling of being completely pissed off  
after realizing I clenched my overbite again  
ripping into the delicate flesh of inner cheek  
waiting for the upper body rush  
to fade  
 
I didn't want to wake up  
disgusted with misanthropy this morning  
depicted as a snapshot  
(un)restored  
with fuzzy creases on the edges  
and laced with cigarette stains  
burned dead on the floor  
as offerings for a yesterday  
that should've ended --- nights ago  
figuratively/literally/metaphorically  
with the blade I'm holding now  
but this knife isn't mine  
even if it feels like  
I'll never get up again without it  
because it reminds me of falling in love  
it's a little bit rusty  
rigidy  
pretty in a grisly sense  
that makes tetanus smile  
like an old familiar comedown  
conspiring to leave you