The room, it's too bright, The sunlight slaughtered off the white, Crashing to intensified death. Is it supposed to be pleasant ? Its an idle fancy, I already know the truth, It allows them to blend in their overcoats, Becoming part of the walls, The building, the institute. No longer people here, With their million and fifty one eyes, They are their profession. Hoo fucken ray ! Speaking again, must focus, at least try, .......sometimes spreads to the bones, Sometimes to the arteries and the heart, Make you comfortable but we're afraid its....... Intake of breath razored over teeth, The gear winding to breaking in the clock, And its next to me, Chuckling ever so softly, 'Ain't easy is it sonny ?' A voice chipped by a thousand given up cigarettes, Chortling, bubbling, A cacophony of canned laughter, Engrossing sitcoms I don't remember, 'I can help' Breath that stinks from hidden nights, Draped by alcohol curtains, 'Come just a little closer....' Fingers inside my mouth, Prying, To the wrist, the forearm, the elbow, Other hand twining my hair, 'We can be one you and me' Such soft regret are the words, 'I will be your weight, Your despair, We can pretend together' Such dead eyes are the memories that never survived their birth, 'I will be your release, the reason you want to go, And in the end, You will welcome not fear, All, because, of , me......' Shoulder now, I fear the clock will shatter with its gearing tension, A fractured moment in a fractured second, Then, Coughs, welling from the soul, I'm choking, retching it up, Vile chunk by vile chunk, And its building, The kick of ice dust off the Andes, Building..... The first splatter of a winter tempest, Building..... The howl of the summer Monsoon, Building..... 'No sonny, no We are one you and I......' Building..... It roars scouring the room, Sweeping up the dead and dying sunlight, Touching lips and time and life, The second ticks by, The word falls, Terminal.Birth sign: Virgo
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