Monday 901 AM; a blistering sun the motion of life now stopped-
“there’s been activity in garage 1 resulting in 2 hours of waiting”
1145 AM the blood from the gunshot wound the bits of flesh from the skull the empty husk and the traffic jam has been cleaned up-
There is no love There are no cries There are no acknowledging sounds For someone who commits suicide- All that you left us with Was passive information, You’re inconsideration makes me sick Let your thoughts rot in damnation!