Whip
The whip strikes stinging
I try to scream through leather
It swallows my voice

Smoke
She is the smoke from
the end of my cigarette
Drifting past my eyes

Winking
She hates my winking
Thinks it dirty and loathsome
Her mind reflected

Dark Queen
My dark queen enters
slow like night and fills all eyes
with cold dreams of her

Old Dreams
On old dreams like wings
tattered she flies still soaring
above my low eyes

Cubicle
The computer hums
A simple monotone tune
Suicide seems nice

Nights End
Is is the nights end
They are leaving this place now
But where will I hide

Cycles
In one, out the other,
Just to complete the circle,
But I stop halfway

Waking
The birds are chirping
The morning peeks through the shades
and my tea is sweet

Phone Jack
I can't hear your voice.
Why do you keep calling me?
There is no phone here.