Sad…like a god has stolen a piece of grey sky to make a pillow from it; drenched that in tar so as to better smother my face and choke my spirit. It was a normal day…just another…an oxymoron of callous indifference.
Ears evacuate Deep Purple in lieu of And You’ll Know Us By The Trail of Dead. Fingers play the keyboard but, in between, those on the left hand reach for the bottle of Makador, the coffee aperitif that is almost empty. Unfortunately, my thoughts do not match for they are always fill.
It is our fears and disappointments that shape and make us. Hope is but a means to keep living.
The sun shines outside but, as you probably guessed, not inside…
It’s too late!
The world is
running out tonight
I will fall
or i will crawl.