I Knew Nothing

dead batteries
and checkered apathy
chew through
beige coloured carpets
like a coffee spill,
like a leaking mouth,
like a blip;
of words fingering eachother
with needless
all apologies and disgust
cling to the mossed walls

I ask the lady in the white coat
about a referral
she shrieks back alien replies
in morse code,
using castration as an excuse
for her infidelity
the doctors have hung themselves
in the waiting room
while I was in the bathroom
vomiting up a foetus

I am diseased, rotten
too cold to set on fire
but you look at me
like I have the universe
frothing form my mouth
like a lost moon
without a socket
and I couldn’t
breath or see or sleep or function
I knew nothing of anything
I knew nothing of me.