dry

i have tried
picking at the rust
colored scabs
that dryly cling
to my vacant soul
but all that remains
are flecks of dust
veins gone empty
brittle tubes
with nothing more
to drain
a miscalculation of
tepid coagulation
leaving a statue
to failure frozen
in place.

there is nothing
of beauty
nor of hope
to find here
just a malaise
and never ending
headaches
that drive
everyone away.

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 )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google 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 )

Connecting to %s