Shells

 

Shells

 

Empty shells of words

Reflecting their former beauty and shape

Eaten by another monster

From the inside out

Like me

And it scares me

I’m scared

So scared of the known

But not yet proved

And the faith

Not yet lost

Hoping against odds

That I might survive

Longing to see her

All the time

Sensitive to every sound

Unable to focus

On what is important

And alcohol is no longer an option

And a warm smile

Forced or not

Payed or not

Is not much of an option anymore either

And a warm cup of coffee

I can’t let go of

And the wasteland

Of my mind

And of mr. Elliot’s

And the soothing smoke

That ruthless murderer

And the warm blood

Of Christ?!

I said I didn’t drink

Thank you very much

And another sip of poison

Brown and grey

And responsibility

Drowned in the lack of tears

And end

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