Bottom Feeders - Columns

What a tasteless day.

I’m the final man left alive.

What a pointless moment to survive.

Only roaches will thrive.

In the wicked land of the hurried.

These empty dreams do not fulfill me.

These empty dreams don’t fulfill me.

Hard times are foretold.

But these days will come and go.

But these days will come and go.

I am on the cusp of when the isolation’s depth has lost my trust

Trust in my own…

I am on the cusp

of when the isolation’s depth has lost my trust

My trust in my own… mind.

Rust will cut itself with rotting flesh and empty steel.

What a tasteless day.