Like a subtle omen,
I find my fruit has gone rotten overnight.
Faded gold turned to coal,
Oozing it's once perfect insides.
I am tarnished silverware,
What a pair.

I met a dead person yesterday
Not a ghost, or some figment of my imagination
I met a dead person yesterday
with no introduction. No hello
or my name is...
Velvet drapery and cellophane-wrapped flowers are no
welcoming committee
I met a dead person yesterday,
with tears in his mothers eyes.

Comfortable silence will never be,
If pestering thoughts intertwine and root
themselves behind my eyes.
Ugly and malicious, a lovely view.
Silence breeds wandering minds, forced jokes
to occupy the blanks.
To distract.
Dragged feet to meet the bottom
of a glass
to pass
time. To absorb this emptiness and
regurgitate feelings.
To relate and to sympathize.
I cannot sympathize with the likes of you if-

The rhythmic tune of the telephone
Numbs my eardrums.
Mom says she's not frightened anymore of when it rings
Hermes delivered his final news,
So no one picks up the phone anymore.
Like a crow screeching his ugly caw, I still feel a knot of impending doom.
Slow motion
Fumbling
Wet skin
We're driving, but not in a hurry.
Zeus mimicked that day from above
Easier to hide when everyone is gloomy.
Easier to hide when you're rushed onto a carousel.
Nowhere to hide when a ghost is in the room.
Nowhere to hide when you've never alone.