everything is
backed up this afternoon
the entire day really
a traffic jam
since my eyes opened
and the silence gripped
my stained glass soul
so tightly cracks formed
in the disillusion of
disjointed colored frames
bleeding a sterility in
shattered deluge across
what could have been

random lane closures
sutures of coarse twine
pulling ky bloody lips
into a rictus grin of
raucous rancor in
reedy whispered begging

just a sack of decaying
nothingness strung together
paraded about as part of
a menagerie of insecurites
feeling the pangs of
loneliness in an ocean of
angry faces going nowhere
at the sluggish speed of
wistful wishful woe