Love lies bleeding
Yes, I’ve said that before
But the internal wounds
They slice at hope
Shape misery. That growing thing
Mutates. A lava lamp of swelling gloom
Where-in light casts little
In the way of illumination
And all the little things
Others may say and try to do
Amounts to nought
Because inside thoughts collide
With doom. An intractable slide away
Into an awful playground
Where light and noise, crackle and spit
Dodgems crash
Internal organs slither
And laughter once evoked by the ride
Inverts and spills
Lays down a tear
Reflected in the psychedelic light
Blood red
mikedohsays 