Edit . Sleep.

Emo. One slow step at a time. Sleep.

Mummbling about the tasteless
As glazed , unfocused eyes scan the ceiling
Waiting , like pugatory in half-term sentence
For some fabric to tear in seamless heaven
Catching the frayed strands of holy-driven static
Giving lesser men a chance to toy with idle fantasies
Or greater beings to lose themselves in sweet sweet sleep

Then , like the italics that crown your current plight
They give it special attention, some try to shed some light
Giving the impression that you are very wrong
That somehow , somewhere, you should be kept aside
Where pleading not guilty is the stuff of movies
Where legendary confrontations , reside.

Further adding to the noise in my mental orchestra
Which , by the way dear friends, is missing a beat
This is horrible horrible music! Poison! Putrid!
How did I wander into this alleyway of three minute dreams
Where the pianist tunes his instrument of percussion terror
Allowing viola and violin to compare notes on scratching
And leaving the odd conductor missing
A coffee break he said, But you just had tea?

So what gain , barring monetary , do they seek
To quell my rising tidal wave ? My puddle of water isn't deep
Or meekly pose as one of my other fetish dolls
On this shallow pool of mud that represents my sleep.