5:45 am
locked in the prison of my mind,
I try to stay congenial only fail to realize
the ever nothing abysis of hollowness
flows through my vains like hard in a junkie.
I push and pull these thoughts,
before they do me in...
Its too late,
I yell and scream
running from my haunted past.
Every which way it reconstructs into
a morphable dream.
Seeming to be so idealistic,
only to close the mouth like a fly on a trap of venus.
Why put up, why not leave.
I cant leave, Im already too dead inside.
Im just a rotting corpse that convulses my flesh
to be something more than a zombie.
But even in these wee hours of the morn,
I can see that we are all zombies.
Dead to life, sheltered from pain.
We are just robots killing ourself with the house keys...
