Rest

I keep asking my bones
to please stop creaking
I have no oil to keep the
rust from appearing.
I've grown weary and
I've stopped praying
for what they speak
of and other
spotless
fairy tales.
The dirt in our
souls is just
enough to fill
the empty but
not enough to
cure the void.


I'm tired of
realizing
nothing is
what they say
it is and dreams
are just dreams
and people are
just rotten people.
We're all just rotting,
dying and realizing
and I think we all
need a rest for
our souls.