Standing on two feet is complicated.
by Raymond Finnegan
blood trickles down from my eyes.
Smoke of a cigarette is exhaled.
Lights go out.
Screams fill the once awkward silence.
Taste of lipstick abandoned to dissolve.
Dawn warms the blanket of tradgedy.
Daggers of immortal pity pierce through the flesh
spilling passion onto the dull forsaken concrete.