Lurking Fear

The inner side of brick,
red stained with blood.
Cracked fingernails scraping,
brick to bone flesh worn.
Born in a stoney haven,
death comes in the pile of rubble just the same.
The inner side of brick,
dusty ruin, hard to breath.
Painful legs pinned under tons,
hysterical, enclosing, trapped.
Night or day, darkness is all around,
and time is counted is slowing heartbeats.
Im trapped under bricks.

plastic fucking shit.
polished seething walking hole off to the casting call.
or to the mall. you bitch you dye your hair and cry
your eyes out when things go astray or dont go your
way. rubbed to a fine shine by society you drink fine wine
and dine behind neon facades of dead movie stars…you
plastic fucking whore. no more no more…
dont call us we will call you