halfway to rock bottom
halfway to rock bottom
by justin hyde
it had come to the point where i found
plastic grocery sacks on my counter in the morning
without the corresponding memories as to
their procurement.
that day it was chocolate donuts,
crackers in the shape of goldfish,
c batteries
and there was no explanation for the pain in my
elbow
the welt on the back of my head
or why
the brown haired woman
asleep on my bed
cowered from me
after i
tapped her shoulder.
Good stuff, mr Hyde. How you been?