full of blood, shit and cum.

even the tab townkeeper,

pawned my past and spent the coin

it did not take long.

limited vision, blurry

given the weary weather it is

mere luck we can afford to commit,

the very same mistake that soon lead us to our grave.

whoever been keeping score

was a poor mathematician,

can hardly afford to recall

no time to whine about,

shan't regress further

let us roam this ghost town anew,

a saint in paradise won't tell on us.

brackets cannot contain

nor repurpose the merit we atribute someone

who draws close, closer perhaps

or so we hope,

the link and bounds we bind ourseves with

are truly magical:

alive and at that 

second best

stepped on shit 

cursed the sky

I meant well I guess

inhibit malice on the weekend

bend the bother otherwise

we live in torment

we live in hell,

folder inspected

hands behind my back

on trial: get it? get it?

have you tried pressing retry?

a new leader, decapitaded otherwise,

buried alive before his spirit rottens.

__________________________________________________________________________

another stranger crossed your bed

back turned to the dividing paint

'best be on my way out'

words can break silence

in such malicious ways

spilling what once was fortitude

all over the murky floor,

a rug with broken edges

hands outstretched towards the being

we imagined we saw in you

coming true in need ever dumb

save a prayer up above me.