Life-support Lyrics & Chords By Meanwhile, Back In Communist Russia...

I don't mean anything by this. Building myself into a screen of songs - lyrics and an oddly sweet after-taste that comes back to me from this time to time.
Glint of street-lights the same brightness & shine sits in the palm of my hand.
It's only okay as long as I'm not thinking, and I'm not thinking.
Sour-sweet, caught in the back of my throat & swimming through my fingers.
It curdles over orange plastic, spatters the newspaper & and I'm neither relieved nor dissappointed sickened & numbed over - yet underneath this, a quick thrill fizzes my veins, sparks a separate life into me.
The machine at my side thrums blood sealing - wax colored.
It catches & sucks back, back on itself. This clattering starts whenever I move, chemical smell rises in my throat, gets stuck there & I just want to get out.
Dull sunlight catches the plastic chairs & over-full dustbins outside the window - and I know that it will all settle back into place now the fire has died away.