The day's gray
forcing myself to feel
forcing myself to look
outside and see the
sun always

Each day a passing bleakness,
each face i see a passing pall
each cloth tightened to their form
these clothes are so limiting

each face in this place,
each body
is a fleshly machine
not a real being

Each day a passing dream,
i wanderlust, see what's to see
her form, it seems

I do not feel like myself
I do not feel like I am me
He, was buried
murdered, put in the stream
he floats on a journey
to the heart of hell

it's already here
no fires here, desires only
deaths here, no afterlife
this teeming place of hell
where everyone walks their way
where everyone has forgotten

sometimes, remember all too well
sometimes, hear the calling knell
sometimes, the grayer i become
the matterless it seems

this is cancer, killing me
the willing of nature, calling me on
the need to reproduce, so somehow i can live on

the grayer, the lesser
i am.
the alienated, the losing,
i am.
the graying, the bleaking,
i am.
losing sense of who i am,
i am.

monochrome, the
monotony.
the tedium
is whipping me
into line.

let's all stand together
with our battered selves.
 
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