Burn to Ashes

The stars like bullet holes in the black blanket called sky. She sheds plastic tears from tired eyes telling lies about rented lives. A conspiracy tale amongst a web of lies. No compromise, as time slowly dies. I don't dream at night. Only a black stream, flowing towards lucidity. Days blend into an hour, our souls soak into the remaining flowers. Without a memory, those that are either happy or sour. You eat slowly at my soul every minute inside every ho