No day passes without a spit of death
blowing coldly through my mind.
It’s just a brain thing I think.
Sometimes I feel like a hitchhiker
traveling down snow covered path
leading to the chill of reality.
Sometimes reality is cold and frosted,
sometimes it’s nothing, black hole
screaming through my mind.
I never tell anyone,
such a thought is only hyperbole,
a search for attention or sympathy.
It’s a two-day deal you know,
cremate, donate, and flowers in a jar.
Heaven, hell, bullshit
which would you prefer?
Personally I’ll have the bullshit