Few Faceless Friends

Here I am again, first poem in x amount of days
3:13 in the morning, street lights are dull orange rays
Feeling the inspiration I've lost for the longest time
Surprised I actually got this far without messing up the rhyme

I am sad, alone
So tired, unknown
To the new people all around me
In this new and empty place

Faceless foes have bound me to the lonely human race

Sitting at a bus stop, a can of duster at my side
This storm that slowly rages must be a billion miles wide
But even when it passes my anger will not subside
These torrential, thrusting raindrops ain't got shit on my insides

I miss my home, my lover
my father, my mother

I have friends who are frankly not there for each other
Screams that no pillow or pistol will smother
No way out, or at least not one I can discover

So here I am, 3:43, chain smoking my cigars
Listening to the storm pounding on the thin hood of my car
Playing with lighters and knives while the sorrow survives
Writing this while waiting for a dull sun that won't rise

I want my old, comfy bed
A few people dead
The few hopes that one day my few words will be read
My hate to be filled
By a few knives running red
A fire, an earthquake
Things a few people dread

Because of the few faceless foes in my head

I don't want to be myself right now, I want to die
But I don't, I get scared, so deep down that's a lie
But I can't get it out, can't shout or even cry
Just smoke, huff more duster, watch the lightning lit sky

When you fuck yourself up just so you can pass out
You'll truly know the desperation that I'm all about
So I'll just chill in my room with my few faceless friends
With brain cells to kill before the world will end