No More

           There is no more depravation.

                                      No more numbers

                            They all bleed together anyways

            Melting into one another

                                          A black and white jumble

                                                    Like static on the television screen.






There is no more fashioning emptiness
When a hollow abyss is what you’re left with.

Just as there is no satisfying it.

There are no more mirrors
To replicate shattered images.

No more hope.

Glue won’t hold the tiny shreds or shards
Of what once was whole.

There are no more oceans
They dried up leaving the sky grey
The air stale
The trees bare
And in longing


No more dreams of rain…
No more dreams



The scale doesn’t lie

Numbers aren’t imagined


The mirror does though
If you spend too much time
Searching for flaws

Picking apart images
Barely recognizable
Anymore
Until accumulated imperfections
Become
A collection

Of mumbled

no mores.