Last nights' nightmare

The ambulance lights were flashing,. and I was in my room , releasing a jar of flies that I had captured the week before, opening the bottle and setting them free, strumming away on my broken 5 string, playing my favorite chords with a piece of ripped cardboard with your number on the back, thinking of days and wasted minutes gone by on the staticy telephone, staring at the blinking alarm clock reading the same time as if time had never passed, ... but it didn't , not to me anyway. But for you, your cracking voice, and awkward silences said to much. and so after the hang up I lay in bed, with nothing on my mind but you, and what you were thinking I was thinking of.

All the photographs in the world couldn't crack me a smile tonight.. to many tears flood my face. So get out of bed you lazy head, look around and smell the fresh air. The air in this room has been dampened with the scent of a weeks lament, and crusty glasses of warm milk intended as a goodnight sleep aid.

Such frail mediocre makings of despiration. no matter what vice you may use to captivate and manipulate me the way you used to, no matter what methods of charm, you shall not break my seal.

What is this place?.. strangely familliar, yet eerie. It's heaps of marvelous contradictions; that cling to the furbishings of cursive letterings that bind them , placed in a fung-schwea fashion bare the reminice of a niche that fits my build, lodged deep within the alley like crevaces of your blackening Heart. So wind me down like the broken clock that I am.. my time consisted of far too many memories, and mostly ones I'd of rather been without.