quasi_sean

memories mean nothing in this space.

for everything is laid out & the machine can no longer pronounce the syllables that i speak and speak louder for all to hear as i roam the around inside this room that could be a padded cell, if only to intimidate me...counting the cobwebs chandeliers sticking to my face laughing groaning a symphony in the thick-air that lingers like clouds stuffed full of sorrow in the evening
too many cigarettes smoked i can only imagine if i were to try and count the visions that haunt me greater than the years ago--vomit strewn across the curtains. it's like a fucking waiting room & reading the journals of the dead translating the pain from one page to another is making me long for a relief.

SWEET SWEET SWEET no more! the bells are sounding--the funeral cLaNg! no more fears, no more late-nite strolls thru the rain-soaked streets and hopes! this is all....thiiiiiissssss issssss alllllllllll...........

the words are here to enjoy.