To the Departed… So It Begins.

1372994229-18124b

Crawling into voices
Out of Awareness
Into pitiful light

As day meets the other and so. . .
Society wants me blind

Slowly, the poison
Distracts
And juices up my skin

Bills and bliss tussle
In an epimorphic dance

There is no room for the grieving here.

The podium asks the same question
Every time the curtains rise;

You must be forgotten
We must walk over the dead.

Unwilling.
I plaster a smile on
And let you haunt me instead.

Advertisements
Tagged , , , ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: