Meat Manniquin

Confident strides forward
Aimed towards an end
Nothing breaking through,
Yesterdays washed away
Only to muddy itself
Underfoot and out of mind,
Seeking no ones acceptence
Expecting nothing
Excepting offers,
In the flash bulbs echo,
Arched forward towards the glare
Masking indesicion,
Such precise grace
Hiding all derision
Instinctivly evasive
Taking another step.

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ibleed.

floating through,

high lengths,

lights? these streets,

sub-housing,

minds,

flow,

drowning in this static...

sure is something,

so much pain,

so little time.

hyperkalemia,

anemia.

bring me up.

there are so many little things a miss in this little world of disease.

don't get me wrong, please.

it striking, profoundly.

anything can happen.

i don't what tomorrow will bring,

hopefully life,

in this incurable and somewhat,

painful dream of treatment.

and so, ibleed.

on the inside out.

a girl passed by,

once, twice, three times it be.

along side her,

an Ed Hardy plastic bit,

( how and why do we breed people like this into our society,

and what is their real functionality, come on.. really? )

chewing for a stare,

sorry doll,

just because I don't respond,

doesn't mean your not there.

you huff, ( ha, save it. )

( stare for a glare... frozen now? )

I see.. the real you,

on the inside out.

Just plain ugly.

Make up, and blonde...

( you called it. )

oh, and a boyfriend with a rapist wit,

and bad coke habit.

Usually,

a functioning human being spawns,

an intellectual conversation,

after body language starts.

And it's not like I'm say there was sparks..

your just a digestive muse.

you.. grunt?

seriously?

Butt sounds verbally?

Good for you.

And I feel sorry for you,

and for that..

I wish you're blessed upon,

with the birth of thousand retards.