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Poem

Vaporized by the mere cruelty of life,
the smoky intoxication of reality puzzles my entire soul.
As pieces of my puzzle break off into the abyss of time
and disappear for all eternity.
Some things they are not forever
just not meant to be.
As all the tragedies of me
dissolve into particles of aching nausea.
When the truth is swell and the wounds are inflated.
I witness the gash of torment resting on my soul.
A suctioning tube, it was, etching rain into my already cold, cold season.
To mourn would last for all of time.
as shards of glass fall into my tortured eyes.
Until I wish to no longer see.
The pain of my pupils now soaking the salt of my unforgiving tears,
melting into time's own concoction of relentless brutality.
Until I no longer know where i reside.
Living in this bubble of utter repetition.
To call it a Hell would be only redundancy in it's rawest state.
Not really caring to bother, 
but neither being permitted to be late
I'm surrendering ownership of my life.
Cooking away my creativity, they try to sell their plastic grins
Hoping that society will merely turn it's two faced head.
Selling themselves out, and expecting me to do the same.
Selling out to a world that will buy stars that are not for sale.
And if you're caught smoking trees, then you'd better have bail.
We're in their twilight now.
But who's to say "their" right?

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