Wreckage

Insubstantial,
like some ghost
down to two meals a day
tight skin over some rib cage

 

Ash blond 80 dye
from 2 months ago
already grown out
gray reality crashes down

 

First came 2 deaths
knocked for a loop
on some stoop
crumbling stone and decay

 

Now it is in the 70's
yellow sun burning
in a blue sky
sporting agitated, cried out eyes

 

Sitting in some room
with the curtains drawn
staring at this computer screen
welcome to another claustrophobic dream

 

Soul searching
there is just too much to bare
not enough space
can't relate, too much hate

 

Maybe it is too late
to smooth over
this encroaching ugliness,
as sure as God is the only witness

 

He's not talking
or His words are lost
this world stopped believing,
another martyr on some cross

 

Not the voice of reason
can't even figure out
this perpetual doubt
skinned alive, dead inside

 

Not given choices
one sided conversations
and other ultimatums
stuck in the doldrums

 

Turned aside
taken for a ride
authority figures
are really only porcelain

 

Up on some shelf
push to fall
fly on the wall
now crawl through the wreckage

 

mathiasthom
written 6/6/11