to all of you who recognize themselves in my work:
i'm not a hack. i don't write to please you. there's this one rule here:
if you have had even the slightest influence on my life,
i. will. write. about. you.
deal with it.
happy reading!

събота, 31 октомври 2015 г.

the night shift

i dream in neon colors
with eyes open like gates
the dark fills my lungs
as i gasp for air
headlights street lamps shadows distant sounds
all hanging in the stillness
of the night shift

my body is a haunted castle
i've got hallways for veins
and in the dungeons of my
all is howling
with exhaustion

i don't care for love anymore
i don't care for life anymore
i don't care for you anymore
what sleep can give me
noone else can

i am floating like a ghost
in the streets
above the city
beneath my skin
the ice buckets in my coat's pockets
shake and jiggle the chains

(oh i told him this morning
"i am invincible today"
he said what he had to say,
but it doesn't matter now.)

i don't care for words anymore.
the neon burned my eyes to the skull
this empty shell is rotting
ashes scattered to the wind

the mists invaded this shadow
of a mind
and flesh turned dawn grey
with regret,
i cried
"just put me in a coma
put me in a coma,

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