attrition
four in the morning
listening to tori amos
remembering all those
years ago, when forever
seemed possible
and then you remember
that those bright days
were reserved for
someone better
than you
you wasted your talents
so, you have to survive
on scraps
enjoy the taste of shit
and failure and debt
embrace a future that
has no rewards
no romantic lead in
some movie that you
always wanted to write
chase down the needle
the train
the last bus to ever
leave this hell
attrition is the slowest
death you could ever
imagine
Horror Sleaze Trash 