regrets

I hear your voice, but it’s the TV

I
Tremor,
Moan
Bemuse myself
Cry
Desperately, you aren’t this.
I
Scream, shake,
Fuck
You,
Losing
Control,
You’re voice is soothing,
Me
Not
Some type of sanity
Some type of vanity
I
Will call you
But
I
Wont.
This is
My
Death,
Slow
Cursed
Wasted
On a bed with all regrets
Wishing I could give you these words.