i’m drinking a cup of black,
swallowing emptiness.
unworthy, oblivious, uncomprehending
of light outside it.
the vapor that envelopes me from the dirty glass full of darkness
suffocates, extinguishes, discourages,
turning my soul cold as it washes through my body and mind,
making me numb to the increasingly subtle, increasingly fading
words of Jesus.
but i keep drinking it,
addicted to a fatal anesthesia.


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