Too bare

too bare

You burn
through a nitrite sky,
fueled by the composition
of grief
you can't taste
and I am exhausted
empathising with the embolism
caused by that gelatinous weight.
You have a destruct button you'll press
regardless of collateral,
be damned those on the ground
so I'm sitting this one out,
settling down into a bunker,
far away from the noise,
one filled with journals
and black ball point pens,
avoiding the bile
of another cycle,
another of your feral,
unpredictable moods.