This Week (part one)

This is how it starts, humid
and hot
           sleep is hard
and
regret, paranoia, the death of
love fallen on a poisoned
                    dart
gnaws at
my heels.
The Snarling
           Devil
           Snapping
in time
                    with my
                    bones cracking
listening,
            (listens)
and agreeing
       (agrees)

That Jar is nearby
           and I would
For
      a
  Kingdom
or
       a
Song,
                Drink and sweat and swear and hurt
But, to sleep.

And we will
see just
how
barbaric
I become.