Always out of place
Out of style
Nobody's friend
The future like fake nights
in 1960's movies
Bleak, blue,
shaded.
Filtered.
The teary itch crinkles eye lids
Not laugh lines
But stress fractures in dam walls
Of flesh
Pressed by loneliness.
Smile please, breathe please
Love please
The warm fuzzys just burn
these days
If a tear should cascade from a crack
Wipe it away
Forever.
Look at me please
See what I've hidden from the mirror
And call it good
Call it
good.
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