A Minute of My Time


I think my bones are breaking
But maybe it's just my skin
Splitting open from my nails digging in
And if you listen closely, to the voices in my head
You can hear the "no's" and "yes's"
And the "do this instead's"
Do you also hear the stretching of my heart strings to it's home.
It's looking, oh, its trying, but it won't be left alone.
Though its quiet next to the screaming
of quiet people on the street
Can you hear it, or are they coming off discreet?
They cry for money, for love, for luck, for blow
For time to slow and slow, for lines that they can somehow blow
And take back time that they have wasted
Being right in the wrong places so they feel less alone;
Less like a stranger, and more like a home.
While I listen and ignore my own voices
My nails split down the middle.
Cold blood runs down all the way to my feet.
Its cold but it should feel warm, like I'm human, like I'm complete.
But now I'm food for the vultures
They feast on empty screams.
And they leave the scraps for the scouts and for the elite.
They take my blood and lick it
Writing ads on the wall with it
So the quiet people know what to do
Sell your body!
Sell your soul!

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