Hide your face under the blanket to cry
Mommy's not here to hold you
As the monsters make you squirm and
Wet your purple sheets in dirty green lines.

Crawl under society's glacial wing
So it smashes your face when it flies
Leaving you a distinct shade of melancholy
That bleed like rusting lead pipes.

Take to the dance floor of chain trapped concrete
Where the only smiles are shove painted on
In a dazzling neon orange, a frenzied panic
Of forgotten pasts clinging pathetically to lampposts.

Join up the blanks and fill in the dots
That hollowly sprinkles the acid yellow sky
While burning a squashed cigarette through your
Molted flaking skin that slides like mud.

Show me your horizon; that never was
And maybe I can taste the transparency
Of your embossed words, engraved on
A headstone that glaringly reads:

I live.

Written: 22.03.04
A/N: Symbolism I guess, although I didn't particularly enjoy this myself. I really don't know. The fact that I'm back here shows that I'm at the end of my rope.

- ® Pris Yeo ® -