a poem for today

a poem for today, 8 January 2012
[a syllable-sorted sonnet of eleven sentences and its image] 
It's kind of scary to be hopeful.
You got one of these that does asses.
All consciousness is consciousness of.
Half of what I say is meaningless.
The morphine barely takes the edge off.
Keep talking but don't use any names.
I guess I've always lived upside down.
Your buccal cavity is your mouth.
Reading only caused me misery. 
These words are almost like animals.
I can only think of myself as existing, and as existing the way I exist; thus, I cannot but exist, and always exist as I exist now.

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