Poor Puppet
Which is sadder,
The greater depression?
To live and matter,
By another's volition,
Or sit and whither,
By your own condition?
Blood and Paranoia?
I bleed into the next dimension,
Am i trapped between suffering and demon?
The sound of bugs clicking and chewing in lights overhead,
Sharp snap of footsteps approaching my bed.
I just want out, to be free,
But something may be watching me.
Death Craving
I feel i am breathing for death.
As one inhales the aroma of pleasant food,
Stores oxygen for a dive,
Gasps in awe,
And breathes in to cry,
So i glimpse this dark reward,
And pull its stinging taste across my tongue.
