the self destruction of the able-bodied

now,
I remember why I drank in the first place:
when i'm not drunk i have one primary emotion
that is accompanied with sad smiles

without a human,
it might look like imperfections
barely visible on painted walls
it might feel like stark sunlight
hitting the houses' faces at five

it might be silence

i think maybe
if it were possible
i should take the time
to sit and stare at the ceilings
for days
until i figured something out
figured anything out