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