Clever

You weave your words into a fog, blind on hands and knees I crawl
It's like eating soup with a fork son. You aren't getting much at all
How long will you go hungry before you give up?
Perhaps a nice arsenic cocktail? You enjoyed the last one so much.
Thank you, may I have another?
There's still life left in my veins.
I talk to myself when I'm lonely but if I do it on paper, it's being creative.
If I do it aloud..
You are crazy you know that? 2 mols short of burning out your eyes.
Or maybe they are truly gone, this is just a clever disguise.

Find a Mason jar. Fill it with three drops of blood the color of roses,
an ounce of excrement, a tuft of pubic hair, salt, bone-dust,
a single black tear. Seal this with hot wax and wait. Winter is coming.

Notify the next of kin. Have him carry your eyes
in his pocket like old pennies
and rub them sometimes, just for luck. If he's clever on Sunday
when the offering plate is passed, he'll know what to do.

Keep your breath on the window, a hair in the keyhole, your gold
tooth slipped under the door.
No one will remember you, but you don't know that yet.