my human landfill

all in all, my life here is nothing more than a human landfill...

and i'm just working so hard to die smart, waiting for the day to come, the clock to strike a quarter past my death...

nothing more that we all ignore...

anyway, there are rooms for all of us in god's place next to the mosh potatoes...

empty closet

my birth is no near,
no reply
to any questions to hear.
some bread to offer,
ı cannot reach.
any breath to take,
out of speech.
can't stay,
can't stand alone.
can't set my poor knees on thorn.
ınto obscurity
my fate was born...