now i'm no mad man,
but that's insanity
feast before famine,
and more before family
goes and shows up with
more bowls and more
cups and the riot for the
last hot meal erupts
corrupts his hard drive
through the leanest months
shells out the hard cash
for the sickest stunts;
on aftershave, on gasoline
he flips the page and turns
the scene
in my mind i'm drowning butterflies
broken dreams and alibis;
that's fine.
i've seen my palette blown
to monochrome-
hollow heart
clicks hollowtone,
it's time.
