limping like a lame dog

Like dead no faced Chinese baby dolls. Strung up by wires, contorted and crumpled. Fixed to grimy walls. Like some macabre Christmas chain. Rusted blood crusted to skin.

Bleakness like cruising through a slum. Kids pissing in the street, throwing lame dog shit at each other. Despair in every set of eyes. Where there are sets of eyes and not just one. The other rendered a hole by worms and maggots of infection.

The other side of the fence always has the greener grass. Until you find every shadow of your mind occupied by skeleton death rattles. Of bony cold skin touching your hand. Death still walking, though god knows how. She has given up. She pisses she shits she drinks. She sleeps and she abuses. If she wasn't such a coward she would have sauntered into the fast lane traffic years ago. And yet she clings on while others die and prosper. With those cold cold witch fingers that turn your blood to ice, bacteria ridden, she'll pass it all on.

And yet others live feeding off the bullshit that occupies their minds. Vomits from their throat in absolute assurity. They make something of themselves while the rest of the world is in the depths. Dead babies littering streets like fag packets. Abandoned by law, their screams turn whimpers extinguished by the frost of the night. Alone and tortured, and they haunt my mind with their chubby cherub cheeks, growing bluer with every nightmare.

A twisted story of every wrong, never finding a common thread, just wavering on the water, bloated and face down, with a million others. Til they sink like stone. The selfish fuckers.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPod touch]