who pretended to listen to me?
who really never listen to me? who thought it where jokes of what matter to me.
of depression in voices, in hidden
personalities, i rolled old cigarette butts into new cigarettes, with ash
stained finger tips, drank used instant coffee from old water in the kettle,
for days, on the stove, with paranoid calming, thoughts of the enamel seeping
into the steaming water, pouring it into