Tyler R. Martin
If I can break through a wan demenior
And befriend the guard dogs guarding your brain,
I’ll chisel through your cracked exterior
And southe a fragile heart at it’s frays.
But there’s a fracture left from convalescence
Too many times your minds been unwound
Way too often long dead demons come to haunt you
Slip past your soul’s sentrys without sound.
Below your damage there’s a sweet little girl
Whose craving marriage and a man of the world,
Whose craving art work that don’t make her apathetic
And avoiding heart break from sad boys she calls pathetic.
She’s sad and lonely but in her mind she’s numb,
In her body she’s a tenant, and her arms and legs are dumb,
Drew under by the tidal wave her needs and her resentment
And her soft despair now is but fading remnant.
Passed out on the floor contemplating her existence
Seeking joy but she still can’t find the door,
Cause she knows that it’s useless her persistence,
Makes the decision not to try anymore,
The bitter end is now no longer in the fleeting distance,
Feels the joy well up in her core.
bourbon, cigarettes and syllables 