crashing bins fall on your head
indexing bits of snatching dead

car horns annoy well into the night
headache headache waiting for light

above the chaotic din a petrified screen
small glass shatters dazzling and unseen

no more mention of the face or eyes
examine the template before it dies

march on towards nothing towards nothing lies rest
please accept this fate held too close to the vest

laughter disappoints the cries of silent scratches
nails bitten bleeding holding unlit wooden matches

smell of sickness caught in the throat
take hold or be lost in heaven's smoke

good night, good day, good bye.