When words do not pour out from the mouth,
An inspired tongue shrivels and dies inside.
Each day is a new poison for the month,
For me to knock my senses, from wherever they reside.

So where do they reside? I ask myself often enough,
I ponder helplessly in search for something to make me feel.
But my wits have all surrendered and in shame they all kneel.
They cry at me, they say they are sorry and that a heavy conscience
Rails upon them hard, forcing them to ***** out their pathetic sympathies.
They have failed me every single time. I am upset. In dissonance,
I part ways and walk away. I don the mask of indifference,
I hide my wounded face in pretense, I do not fear ignorance.

I would rather be a fool a hundred times over,
Than try and make sense of life for even a second.
It’s simply not worth my time. It’s that dreaded cold shower,
Of mornings that especially chain me to my bed.
As I lie in silent protest, I let my habits feast and devour
Any judgment upon my sanity and what is appropriate.

Well what is appropriate? This question itself makes me cower.
It fills my body with chills. I lay stunned in bed; not even a tool.
I hastily realize, what could be more appropriate than playing a fool?
I would rather laugh at myself than let some flower
Laugh at me. I simply cannot give someone else the satisfaction of being cruel.
I would rather stuff my mouth with socks and scream and endlessly drool.

I was not always so resentful. I once dearly held life in high regard,
With kisses and warm embraces. Sadly, that feeling lives no more.

When words do not pour from the mouth,
An inspired tongue shrivels and dies inside.
Each day is a new poison for the month,
So that I may knock my senses, from wherever they reside.

Let us not prolong this for any longer,
Let us go at once to the corpse in the graveyard.
Let us see that mighty whale smother breathlessly,
Let us submit to the fate that nature has sealed.
I admit this a nasty sight, but we must endure helplessly.
Let us not ponder any longer.