Empty Gates

When does the game end…

I’ve been forced into a force quit- a no holds barred match for life where the only way to win is death.  No breath is given without one being taken away.

Behind this smiley faced emoticon emotions are gone, and our “con”versation has become my favorite con in the making because I make you believe I am who you want me to be in the moment. You keep me remote, and I keep control.  This joystick has been replaced with pain because at the end of the day… that’s all there is.

Pain stuck in my side, as I bleed out the room…

Winking at all the pretty ladies… desperately trying not to think of them as possibilities and maybes… because my crazy is, a flagless ship- my heart bears the broken bones of reckless pirates. A soulful sire clubbed with broken iron.  Broken armor.  A woman’s touch is just enough, but still too much, I drink though my bladder’s full, I just can’t get enough…!

When.  Will the game.  End.

There is nothing beyond these eyes.  Do not be fooled by shining irises soaking up light like some universal sponge- once light enters into these retinas its life force is over and done. A blackness darker than Africa’s penumbra rules here… a puppet master of masterful vocabulary, verbally inducing his strings… you think this is the real me but it’s all an act.

There is nothing behind these eyes…

When.  Will the game.  END.

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