A mattress carved from ice is where I will dwell.

Words won't come from these finger tips and rest won't come to this heavy head. Like fireworks it all comes undone before my liquid eyes. Chilled glances upon frozen faces. It tastes empty and like my stomach, I can never be satisfied. Sleep takes the place of food, dreams replace company, while my unconsciousness woes my heart. Light to eyes can better be discribed as pulling bare skin from a block of ice. Twinkling through the days half listening and half loathing. Everything is fiction to the touch, all my statues have fallen amidst the nonchalance that I wear like a scarf. When you are unloved and abandoned you aren't meant to recover. A lifetime wasted on mediocre days and forbidden nights. Hands touch all and all that was mine has been ravished and is cum stained. Hiding under covers, hands like a rock over the tears, willing my hands not to falter. Lost in empathy and compassion, why I lie lost and neglected. A place visited so often it might as well be home. And like fog it came to me all at once, as if beaten into stone and placed on display, it was there, the realization that too much faith is put into things that are by design, made to fail me. Dwelling in thoughts never to be shared I linger here. Forget this face. Close your ears.


It grows early, I better find my bed before she comes home. Stop this breathing, it can't be healthy.