Echoes

Her eyes were like nothing
Her stumbling legs would barely keep beneath her
Just waiting for the Reaper to release her
Today she hadn’t tasted nothing to speak of
Yesterday she had a slice of pizza
Liquids had turned to solids on her t-shirt
The type perhaps a scientist could research
Been weeks and months since anyone could reach her
Tics ago on the clock her whole esophagus was choking on a cock that didn’t tease her
To cop the anesthesia
A mother once beside herself with worry now would wander right beside her none the wiser
She didn’t recognize her
Her promise famished in a family where there weren’t no providers
There weren’t no survivors
Calamity too heinous to believe
Her cavity was so contaminated with disease
You couldn’t hope to clean it with entire summer weeks
Much less a Summer’s Eve

ALL YOU
ALL OF YOU

Could almost vomit from the stench
The rotting of the flesh
The last occasion that she had been anybody’s guest
Was anybody’s guess
Her mind was way to whittled to be riddled with regret
It teetered on the edge
No direction that required any steps
No director to yell “quiet on the set”
No price was on her head
No one was racked with grief or feeling loss
If there isn’t anyone that’s looking for you are you even lost?
No friends had been as solid as the concrete she was on
So was she even off?
At times she’s in no mood to make no movements on her own accord
Police would then accost
You haven’t seen a more afflicted corpse
Since Christ’s crucifixion on the cross

ALL YOU
ALL OF YOU

I haven’t seen her in a stretch
I wonder if she rests
I wonder if the demons that had haunted her in her life, would haunt her in her death
There was not a missing persons file on anybody’s desk
The topic hadn’t made anybody’s docket
The change she needed more than what could jingle in your pocket
Or had she been a prophet?
A saint who withstood pain that wouldn’t lessen
Who’s life had been so I could learn a lesson
That even those that get high and just say “F it”
Can die and go to heaven
And who was I for questioning her ethics?
Should I be ashamed I never made the effort
Or took the time for taking her to breakfast
Or to the Fertile Crescent
Woebegone that I never heard her message
Before she’d gone returning to her essence