Lukewarm

This greased jellyfish life
Injecting poison, slithering through my hands
Infecting nerves, numbing them comfortably
Easing me into acceptance
The ringing constant, a part of WHO I AM
The brain cell bone yard of unmarked graves
None missed but no more expendable
Empty now of imagination
Open door
Road blocks and dead ends all my own
A substitute for contentment to wallow in
A nasty hacking cough to wake the neighbors
Wriggle and squirm in my grip
Stinging fingers and palms
Burning, wasp-dropped, fell through my grasp
Into a hole in the ground
Dug for me by shovel-blistered mitts
All in a day's work
Between the morning bell and it's sunset companion
Slither and stink, filling up heaven and earth
Drink it in and spit it back out
Lukewarm.