Steel wool in my mouth, clock’s a one-eyed cynic.
Week bleeds into ash, a waiting room with no exit.
Door creaks, a flicker in the smoke-stained air.
Tonight, the clock’s a broken compass. Dignity, a flickering match.
The city’s grime, a familiar, cold embrace.
Fogged air, metallic tang. Vibrant canvas, faded.
Initial impulse – lost line. Process, purpose – blurred.
Machine hums – dull thrum. Routine rhythm – numb life.
Screen reflects – empty expanse. No fire, just empty track.
Whisper, tremor – faint trace. Vibrant echo – lost space.
Grip tightens, edges dissolve. Blended purpose – evolve.
Ember yearns – bloom smothered. Layers, muted tomb.
Flicker unseen – erupt, disrupt gray?
Steel kisses, not moonlight, that’s the currency of this town.
Women with eyes like burnt chrome, laughter a rusty crown.
Forget promises, forget forever’s tired refrain,
Here, love’s a cigarette flickering in the pouring rain.
This city’s a scrapyard of broken things, and we, the rust,
Clinging to each other, a desperate, temporary trust.
No pedestals, no porcelain dolls with hearts of lace,
Just the raw thrum of desire, a love that leaves its trace
Etched in smoke and regret, a brutal, beautiful scar.
We chase the flicker in their eyes, a shooting star
That flares bright, then fades, leaving us cold and bare.
We melt into the smog,
another anonymous face lost in the city’s sprawl.
The only evidence, a faint scent of ash
and lipstick.