no hiding from it

 
 
 
the shades are drawn
and quartered  
 
the night air is dirty
and crawls about like  
a sick spider looking  
for a death bed
 
I stare into the mirror
and no longer recognize
who is staring back
 
...there is nothing
more I can do
now
 
the clocks have
stopped
 
the rose has
fallen
 
and luck has run
out like toilet paper
when you need
it the most