faces i used to know
dilapidated places
your eyes closed off from me
dull aged bleak sunrises
people crawling neath the spaces
where nothing bad or good can grow

mind poisons pouring over 5G networks
no salvation no protection
hiding the twisted white-hot thoughts
time progresses with no resentments

while nightmares vivid march next to me
living barely on the tombs that lure me
loudly speaking whispers as hell consumes me
madly tearing at the wind above me
the soil beneath me is bled very badly

madness has now become my life’s salvation
city blocks in desolation
void of soul lost reputation
freedom weakens with each reverberation
lock my limbs my mind inserts quotations
where my own words used to have expression

mb was born and raised in urban Los Angeles and is a Gen X’er who chronicles and scrawls about the art form of living in the Angelino metropolitan environment. mb personally battles depression and anxiety, but utilizes writing and art to self-regulate.

you can read more of mb’s writing at Words Less Spoken