dear antichrist in chrome
the world ends with a yawn
death wears mom jeans
in an empty mall
=
a circle of salt
and ash 'round the bed
keeps the demons
out of your head
------
------
the mirror won't look back at me
my chalk outline has drawn itself
my shadow has seemed to have wandered off
to follow someone else
a boring ghost
with nothing to haunt
and no reason to stay
staring blankly at the clouds
until they take me away
::::::::::::
-
the soot of the years
a black foam in my veins
gravel in my blood
fingertips rusting over
bracing for the flood
Ribcage ashtray
full of butts and chewed gum
No comments:
Post a Comment