Untitled.

I walk the same way every night,
catching breath like an old dog’s hound.

The distance keeps repeating itself,
I could barely hear the sound.

Beauty is what they sold on thick piece of glass,
pre-packaged with dope and salvation.

Here I stand, pointing out and say
(fuck the world) who never felt this way.

Grinning teeth meets crooked smiles,
washed up and worn out.

It’s almost closing in,
but the heart still draws for more.

Scratching the bottom,
painting pictures of a world we knew.

Fury swells like blinding light,
I swear I’d kill it for one last time.