distraction as seen by a man wanting a drink

the other night i scratched my nose off
i pulled that fucker right off my face
caught it in a hang nail
and shook it down to the ground
it missed the floor and hung from the mahogany precipice of a coffee table
that i never used for coffee
or as a table for that matter
the little glass mirrored squares inside it's wooden frame
allowed me a gaze deep into my mind
i thought for sure
would have bet my balls on it
that i could crawl into my own damn skull
what would i have accomplished if i had
what would i gain if i did
i tried
to fold and climb and claw my way in
like a speed freak going through the oragami rituals of yoga
bending contorting twisting and stretching
to no avail
nothing ever gets accomplished if you try that hard
nothing gets done
but if nothing is completed
then just maybe something has
the grey white pink pulp pulsating beneath the frame of my skull
really trying it;s hardest to think of how i could crawl in with it
make it warm
warm me up
it would all be the same
for it was my brain
my mind
my space upstairs
but it could not be done
my nose fell down to the rug
caught up in carpet bits
fuzz
hair
a crumb or two that had become vacuum refugees
coating up that bloody slithering stump of an appendage
like a friggin sprinkled cruller
it made me think of coffee
indeed it had distracted me from the proposed journey at hand
coffee sounded good
but the blood had seemed to stop spouting out
out of that gouge
that gorge
that bloody cave in the front of my face
and that ended it all
proving that you can never be inside your mind
or at least not long enough to survive