Shush

For a second in the early morning
Between sips of coffee and cigarette smoke,
Flashbacks that used to burn my eyes grow dimmer, and dimmer
I feel the boredom,
Turning my coffee into a gray tap
Turning my cigarette into a bundle of wire
Dancing in my mouth with each drag.
Making random bruises and scratches
Till it bleeds into my cup
And the fairies are drenched in blood.
The lantern that feeds me light explodes
Shards of glass mixed with halos
They pierce of my eyes and choke me softly.
My brains drip onto my clothes,
To add some color
It reminds me of the flowers I had.
Clouds circle me,
Infected with vultures and little gold fish
They beckon me, to the street with red lights.
Where bedrooms are cages
And innocence laid to rest in a small rubber tube
It was the color of the moon
We all turned the color of the moon.

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