brittle viper

brittle little poet
feeling so all alone
in his rundown
apartment pacing
endlessly through the
long nights spent
picking apart the
broken bits until his
hands are covered in
tiny little cuts from
the technicolor
dreamshards puncturing
the tenderest of desire
suffocating on the
depressive tentacles
wrapped around his
papermache ribcage as
the canary slumps
to the filthy newspaper
lining its crypt
time keeps spinning
ever forward as he sits
growing older in stasis
watching out the window
as the world passes by
without a second glance
at his emaciated frame
of invisible scars
the ceaseless headaches
the cost of the words
but at the cost of
no one listening as he
spews venom in
the heart of beauty
a coiled viper of
indiscriminate sorrows
sluggish and brittle
in the cool morning air
pacing back and forth
yet going nowhere at all

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