Hidden in houses and places
that pay homage to appearance,
there exist people desperately sucking the
last drops of today’s survival and
picking up the sharp shards of insanity
that explode in aimless display.

For these people who cry in the silence
of “no one cares”, know that I will be there
to fill the vessel and to pull out gently
the bloodied shards that sit in your soft flesh red deep.

Know that I will be there behind the appearance;
there where know one wants to be;
there is the depth of glass and blood and you.