where did all the reasons run to
from here,
laying around and waiting
anticipating an outcome
or at least a gesture of faith
some half-hearted attempt
something to signal a pulse,
anything but this

deadening echoes of silence
with menacing looks that could kill,
you know what I mean
sputtering filth
and decoupage scenes
layer upon layer of sheer hell ...

and you call this normal?
spew anything from your lips
just because you can,
muttering under your breath on the down low
you think I don't hear
that madness,
that trash

what kind of love could this ever hope to be
words without consequence
infliction of pain without remorse
tearing apart one's soul and heart
how can this be,
what reason would anyone give
if reasons were an answer to live ...

01/06/2009

Posted on 01/07/2009
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