my swinging back and forth
paints all the shadows,
hidden, a criminal passive dangling
oh God, this won’t be changing
don't cauterize
the leaking vein
and let my blackened blood spread
with the disease that consumes me
the chin is up
I'm standing tall
about six feet from ground
enjoying the best part in hanging
and hear the idiot spinning
while lost in rows of brown houses
I needed something to cling on
to please my wrong choice's habit
just leaning out for new hope
the eyes blend air and stone
while all those people sleeping
floor by floor by floor goes the haunting
a human luck
my heavy bones
oblige to keep my head low
and help me facing the asphalt
and on my book
on chapter eight
I see the vowels fall
a mass suicide that won’t affect the sense
I’ve tried hard but still can see ‘em
still see the headless chicken
that kicks and throws for the dancing
still takes the guts of a coward
to keep on painting the ending
on and on and on
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