all the blood floes so
visceral in your vain-
i can hear it boiling,
bleeding out your pain.
the collapse of your system
the fall of your broken empire
it's all coming down-
and you're just trying to get it out.

and the frustration vented from this
goodnight call, like it always is
is always less about what you wanted it to be
and always more about how it comes to this-
inviting your barage,
the bombs have hit the civillian
areas in my heart. but,
the wounded will heal-
but at what price? i'm starting
to feel as if it is just one long
string of pissed off days
running into eachother
and then you running into me.

03/26/2003

Author's Note: this just came in a creative burst with no real direction... dont really know who/what it's about.

Posted on 03/27/2003
Copyright © 2025 Andrew S Adams