faces and no names,
a broken heart that feels no shame.
severed strings and sharpened teeth
i guess this story will remain incomplete.
like a wind wound blanket unravelling in the wind,
i need somewhere to finish before i shalt begin.
a shattered realm, this face wont tell me lies,
what i can see behind it is enough to send me blind.
i remember stories that never happened and tell tales as if they did,
to change my ways? for this i have no incentive.
just a time-washed clock thats counting down my days,
and a short lived stint with happiness that lingers behind a face.
forewarning, everything you see is a short term endowed
by the a slow inevitable fate that lies hidden in a cloud,
a cloud of dust that shows sense to those who care,
but noone ever cares enough it would seem, do you call that fair?
without intention, to direct this senseless stream of misery,
somehow i know everything i say will come back to me.
im not asking for a helping hand to make me whole again,
but i have grown tiresome of looking for solace in a page and a pen.
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