C- Suicide Life

he lies in bed
next to the silhouette of nobody
arms once held crumpled quilt
fetal position womb memories

he pours coffee
scent like water on wilting flowers
faint window light shines through blinds
on the ash spots on the rug

he turns the key
engine starts up and purrs
light and beep announces subtle problem
headlights cut through morning darkness

he sits down
in front of wavering screen
lost in a fragment of time
fingers pressing plastic without purpose

he reclines lazily
television static fuzzy headache
pills bring the curtains down
after the day's performance in an empty theater