So close to being a thought.
by Johnny CrimsonExhaling inside a gas mask
the hot breath snaps back on my face.
A glue I've been denying,
this seal can never be erased.
For my fate here is eternal
on the outskirts of your door.
Never will we breathe the same air,
makes me wonder what it's for.
I've seen you smile like a poor man,
with a bottle and a grin.
I've heard the cackles from the basement,
I know you're grinding into sin.
Even murderers have second chances,
but I'm still looking for my first.
And I'm disgusted by her actions,
but the screams entice my thirst.
11/28/2009