My Only Company

The windows are open,
The curtains dancing.

I sway on the hammock,
Cuddled coldly, drowsily.

Looking at my dirty fingernails.
Biting them away, one by one.

A man on the radio is babbling unintelligibly
The signal is full of static.
It's just an old radio with three turning buttons.

Sipping vodka through the curling straw,
Letting it swing up and down the plastic straw.
Fire cascades down my throat,
Splashes inside of me soundlessly.
Hardly glorious.

A crow settles on the verdana's rail
Stirring thick layers of dust.
Its obsidian eye locks with mine
I turn away, the beast squeaks triumphantly.

Sipping a little more,
Smelling imaginary banquets of chicken salad
And gingerbread men,
Listening to "One Love" on the radio,
Biting the last nail off.
Losing myself in the blackness,
The sparrow's blackness.

Smiling cynically for the beast,
And the golden ring in its beak.

The beast's mocking stare,
The only one there.
My only company.