A wise man
Is only wise,
When he knows
There is always
Something more to learn...

If
Death
waits
For
Me
He can take a number...

I'm sick
of constantly
being on the
back-burner.

I am not someone
you can just use.
I am not,
and never will be,
"the second best."

Give me your all
or give me
nothing.

Alone in spinning hyperspace
Nauseating corner
Men in yellow Hazmat suits
Not a trick or tare to warn her
Spinning up in semi speed  
Down through the darkened air
Sick scarlet style leather gloves
Eyes rolling past her hair
Kind words through the ear
Crushing her last soft sense
Siren's song and burnt tongue tea
Hands shaking in suspense

Still alone, the world had stopped  
They carried on fast in this demise
For they knew that  
Pay checks come, what a surprise
Her with no tears, but dusty eyes
A streamline made for extra time
She watched it slow in semi speed
As love was blood that had been mine