Broken Motives

the sheets you live in are haunted
they make a ghost out of fatigue
a blanket has fallen to the cold
floor the lightbulbs have long

since burned out
again and again you shake
yourself awake in this
haze after darkness

Doom waits outside
he has the place surrounded
the man and his goons imbued
the atmosphere with repellence

you stall with smoke
and anonymous motion
singing songs to make
amends with pre-occupation

it’s sure, there’s nothing worse
than to choke on impatience
scorn is the common armor
that shields against the faceless

when the door swings open
Doom takes your hand
you walk beneath his trench coat sky
grief submitting to worn corruption