Pick Your Poison

empty windows shine less brightly
when there's nothing to see outside.
too many right angles in this tiny cabinet of a room,
shelved inside and stored away.
the cockroaches have found their ways in and out,
but I only have four limbs to speak of;
trapped inside this body...
I hear people laughing slowly.

Disease.

i can feel her on my shoulders
when there's nothing left to shrug.
squandered opportunities in all directions,
although there's never been much room to spread my wings in here.

The walls caved in a long time ago.

to be completely honest, shit is pretty fucking turbulent...
in this pitch black cave I spin in place
until i can no longer stand the inertia.
the only thing I can ever recall anymore
is the haunting swell of the slide guitar
as it strums along to songs of loss and songs of sorrow.

Madness is my mentor, now.