Mornings in Mephadrome

You say,

        "baby, it ain't never been like this"

       and you gave another shake

                    and a moan

        and turned in bed,

               away from me,

    but I could still see you shaking it out,

               shaking off

all those enlightening

                         conversations

and all those exciting

                         plans

and all those heartfelt

                        confessions

sneezed from the 

            dusty deviated septums

    of all the best friends

                                    and ex-lovers

         we will never remember.

            And they all feel like I feel,

gray and abstracted

         like some cheap chemical factory,

festering and creeping

         like the mold in my bathroom wall,

wet and overfull,

         like the sagging ceiling tiles,

cold and useless

         like...

well, like me,

                   before I shake again.