Reasons

where did all the reasons run to from here, laying around and waiting anticipating an outcome or at least a gesture of faith some half-hearted attempt something to signal a pulse, anything but this deadening echoes of silence with menacing looks that could kill, you know what I mean sputtering filth and decoupage scenes layer upon layer of sheer hell ... and you call this normal? spew anything from your lips just because you can, muttering under your breath on the down low you think I don't hear that madness, that trash what kind of love could this ever hope to be words without consequence infliction of pain without remorse tearing apart one's soul and heart how can this be, what reason would anyone give if reasons were an answer to live ...