Maybe if the thoughts
Could just leave me to myself
Then my promises
So futile, a farce of words
Spoken nightmares, Judas kiss
A mere wrinkle for you
for all god forsaken fools
Lost messages lying
i wonder how you wonder
How we can even now feel
We are my own fault
My anchor, my weight, my flaw
I am surrounded
By the pale, despondent shades
Of my own loved, treasured friends
I am the fracture
Fissured in continuity
I have now become
A paper tiger
I can not identify
who I am, senseless, numb
I hear that printer ink is more expensive than human blood.