The dead are powerless
to tell us what to do
and the living are
struggling just to make it through
Meanwhile the ragtag angels
scour our alleyways
searching for food
Everything is so terribly bright
in the middle of yet, another lonely night
I look at the clock
but it has no face
its hands
are gone
It’s ashamed
of how its invention
has caused such harm
I am too
There’s some
Liquid-Drano in the cabinet
I consider shooting
it into my vein
Then I remember
asylums can only be altered
but never really changed
I gaze out a window
and I see the assassin is near
He stares up at the sun
but instead
seeing the moon
Laughs to himself
and says:
“Oh, my
I’m way too soon”
Listlessly, I drift out from my body
down the stairs
There’s an old man
in a chair
He cuts out his entrails
and sadly states:
"Its the best I can do,
so please try to relate”
I splash scorching acid in my eyes
as if it could serve as some disguise
Voices drift by on a breeze
telling me it’s almost morning
and I’ve got to leave
Soft fingers awaken
me
Blood covers the bed
where I lay
