Capetonification

I got clothes laying on the floor
she complains
but my flat is a petri dish for a moldy infestation.
i've lost two rooms to it's slowly creeping black embrace.
the plumbing's fucked,
a toilet has died,
the roof leaks
and i'm dying inside.
suffering.
my chest is tight
like it's trying to evict the air from my lungs.
i dont know what's wrong.
is it the cigarettes?
The weed?
Am I dying?
I don't know what's wrong.
Or is it this flat,
and it's slowly creeping mold.
And yet she moans about my clothes laying on the floor.