The No Named

(Grasping

for words,

to form

sentences...

to

express

this which is

undefined.)



Screaming,

shaking...

Will anything come of this.

Other than the lining, for my trash can.

Kiss

the sky

good mourning,

start the day with a cigarette.

Stare

in the mirror at this

wreck

staring back,

and ponder...

what is it

that's left that

brings him back for more.

Heart spread

wide open

much like the

legs

of a cheep whore.

Fucked by

his goddess,

his trust...

and disciples.

Given up,

no point in

trying to change the

vicious cycle.

Peace is timed by

how much is left

in the bottle.

When that's gone,

back to running on fumes,

pounding the throttle.

Dancing images of

a life once lived

and beings once loved,

convince

to move onward.

While the echo

whispers,

speaks...

screams those

3 fond words.


(i

love

...)

A splash

of water upon

that

tear topped face.

Wipe the vomit

off his lip,

then he

finds his place.

What matters,

is gone...

who matters.....

is gone,

but where they've gone...

he doesn't know.

So he

puts his hood on,

puts his sunglasses on

and refuses to

let the effects of that

show.