Sep 17, 2006 20:16
sometimes the day you look in the mirror is the day you can't see yourself
every fucking moment is a fly
it eats, wanders, decays and dies
eats away at more of the shell
the black, bloody, dripping shell
made of insides that turn out
organs that used to work but now
beat relentlessly for nothing but a few bones and things
flesh and blood rots in the sun,
it rots and burns so much even
the eyes of crows can't bare the lifeless naked pose
no one knows what it does, it just stands because
all the people stare if it moves, like a squid it squirms
I wish I could just cover everything in a cloud of black ink
a thick oobleck of nothingness, yet cozy and comforting,
inviting without the mind's eye perspective, only to the soft
hot, touch that electrocutes to the very bone do I smile,
break teeth's fast with sunshine, a little break from the daily grind.