Garbage in, garbage out.

Hark! Who goes there?
Wish I could tell you.
I wish I knew.
Maybe rhetorical, maybe hypothetical.
But the reality is the same.
There's no picture in my frame.
Just a mirror, a mere reflection.
Blurred and slightly out of focus.
Mixed up messages, broken promises
leaves are scattered on the shore.
(leaves the frame shattered on the floor)

I'm a mess, honey. Did you know?
Tried to tell you, swear I did.
Wasn't always quite so bad.
Never used to stomp my feet.
Used to drag them, here and there.
Now I'm ruffling feathers.
Now I'm covered in tar.
Rolling around on the ground,
Kicking and screaming,
Caw-caw, caw-caw.
My words escape me.


It's funny how the setting makes the scene.
The substance is in the subtle nuances.
At least that's what I tell myself.
I am subtly in it's entirety.
There is no substance in this starch.
Only winks and nods and smirks.
That isn't enough, I tell myself.
But it's worked for so long, who could tell?
People aren't analyzing the details.
They're only counting their breaths
and charging you for them.