HERE in a cage the dollars come down.
      To the click of a tube the dollars tumble.
      And out of a mouth the dollars run.

          I finger the dollars,
          Paper and silver,
          Thousands a day.

      Some days it's fun
              to finger the dollars.
Some days...
              the dollars keep on
              in a sob or a whisper:
      A flame of rose in the hair,
      A flame of silk at the throat.

I've lost my sense of direction
I am floating without correction

Drifting toward the nearest sun
And
My starving feet begin to run

Breath hitches in my throat
Blocking thieves as if a moat
...
Protected you from me and you again
Of you there is no lack again

The sun begins to burn me up
Then
My skull is but a gilded cup

I feel you drink the richest wine
I sigh when I know that you are mine
Is that where we draw the line..?

I float without direction
No sensible correction

I listen for the my beating heart
Before I recall that you stole it

Inhale
Holding the smoke captive in my lungs
Soon it escapes my lips and runs wild in air
It dances in the moonlight
I lay my head back and watch it run away
Another puff, another escape
Full moon, time to blaze
Memories of you flood in
Your touch is like razor blades kissing my skin
Scars to forever remind me of all my sins
Exhale,
Then breathe in
I keep letting my demons win
Inhale
It's starting to kick in
Just like the clouds pouring from my mouth
I fade into the night
With a blink of an eye
Exhale
Goodbye

Like a broken petal of a rose i wilt.
My heart sinks like the petal as it falls.
The blood of my blood.
The feelings deep inside.
Do my feelings rippen like the rose blooms?
With the right love and devotion will it prevail?

I am not pure
My shell is cracked and eroded in most places
Many have chiseled me away
And took the remains
The light grows dim on the inside
So dim it's no longer appealing to make a home
I am destined to crumble alone
Much like a puzzle undesired because few or more pieces are gone
I don't place the blame on anyone but my own
I often wonder if there's a another out there with a light inside that's not so bright
I want to see their face
So we can crumble at eachothers feet
Our componants will mix together
And form a beautiful masterpiece

Forever isn't relative

There's an open day
in heaven,
starts tomorrow
about eleven.
I might go and look around
I've heard it's where
saints go to
ground.
It sounds okay
an open day and
quite free for
sinners such as me.