Sifting through the confetti
of the nightmare that snowed
me in, looking for the remnants
of my armour that melted
from my skin, I barely breath
through lungs that have been
completely singed by sin
Coffee colored caricatures
laugh softly at an empty
attempt to rearrange scattered
memories, untwisting skeletons
that are bent while crushing dreams
into tin can cymbals arguing
against the tunes that have fled
I deny to partake of the feast
today
I think I'll stay abed