Scat-Colored Walls
The septic stench of desolation;
has followed me into a quagmire
of depression and self-loathing.
And scat-colored walls weep neglect,
upon my fragmented soul.
My life feels like a jigsaw puzzle
missing a few crucial pieces:
incomplete, jumbled up,
and fallen into decay.
Shadows occupy the empty spaces
where my naive heart harbored
dying dreams and shattered truths;
addicted to the opiate of hope.
And my life, like a tattered quilt of guilt:
seems stitched together by a needle
fate's threaded with tears, fears, and regrets.
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