Velvet Coma

The walls hum like morphine dreams, Cheap angels flicker on TV snow. My pulse drips

slow, syrup and static, I grin just to see if I still can.

You say I'm fading cute, A ghost in glitter shoes. You call it

healing, I call it déjà vu. Tuck me in my velvet coma,

Where the hurt feels holy and kind. Kiss me through the anesthesia — I

swear I'm fine, I swear I'm fine. I taste the echo of old

medication, Sweet like guilt, soft like smoke. Every promise blooms then withers,

But at least it glows. I wear my peace like perfume, Just strong enough