Bent necks gazing into bent faiths

Backs leaning over ashtrays counting ash days

Knees kneeling to the glory of a soul keeper, no deeper than a black plate, platonic connections with plastic parts of no real power,

Devour the weak then praise them for their sacrifice, our destined demise 

Destitute and desperate so we break our minds for better pay, 

Better pray, it’s that time of day where lone bones begin to ache, fake faiths embroidered on our latest skin, fashionable, slim, never dim, 

Payday, too scared of what’s after death but we have never lived anyway, any day you could cease yet you decide to rot away, 

The brave take a leap of faith to fall into the arms of an abyss, “screw this,” they say

Quick to melt into the ground and give up on digging into the sky, high five the resting souls that tried to warn us in our sleep,

Now they laugh inside their graves while we stand on the dead and weep, 

Mourning those who left as if we ever even arrived 

To the world, deprived of sleep is what I am

Where I am standing on the edge of a cliff looking straight, internal debate of where to look and how to stand and when to speak, according to whose command? 

Who to demand from some peace of mind? 

Don’t look behind, looking backward is for the tilted, looking upward is for the blind, 

Looking downward is for the hopeless

On this cliff I must look straight, I either fall to my rest or rest after finding faith, 

I’m looking at the sun trying to catch the sunset in a frame, with my pen and paper I try to illustrate what I want to make of my own fate 

The only time I blink is when my heart begins to think 

If I will ever find, the sun in another’s mind, 

My shriveled hands conceal the loneliness I feel 

The sun is yet to thaw the ice shield I built to protect myself in this slumber state, 

Slumber state, where I live, everyone is past saving, I’m saving all my energy for the great wake

The great break 

Of dawn

Where a warmth will encase me and melt away 

The frigid ice of my decay