Eyes filmed in the hazy gaze of Camera Obscura,
Shiverings of alternating heat and cold process.
Can I summon the might to pull these sheets off me?
Another four hours of underexploited reality beckons.
Struggling against a rising tide of somnolence,
Dexedrine and coke would just make it better now.
It's 3.32pm.
Batteries too depleted to be recharged properly,
Spiralling into the vortex of another slump.
Ineluctable gloom suffuses all strands of the air,
Until I have no choice but to succumb and inhale it.
My stepladder out of this is in my bottom drawer,
It's brown, round and marked "Alza 54".
Relapsed. It's 7.32pm.