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!
