Life...

(another poem that sounds the same as another that I wrote. I know. shhh.)

One dead bird after another
Falling from the sky
Carrying the lost God's message.

"Little dead doves...
Their feathers would make
A nice boa. Let's sell it."
Faces and smiles
Torn off fragments of commercial cliches.
One celebrity skin after another
Nailed to my all-American floorboards.
I want to see your real smile
So I can break those pearly Halloween teeth.
Interview:
"Give me a close up"
(Give me some dirt.)
"You look so beautiful when we're destroying you...
Open your mouth let spill
Tell us a story,
Such pretty words!
How do I make them mine?"

(OFFTOPIC)
I'm so sick of this billboard protegee
Nausea creeping into my nervous system down
The rabbit hole we go
And when we reach the bottom
We'll be stars
And fly
Somewhere
That died a long time ago.
Baby, I'm scared of what these people call love
Because I know I'll never really
Be a part of it.
I don't know what to say
like you do;
You dress your words up so nice
You make them sparkle and shine like they're new
Instead of those used up pieces of past
That they really are.
(You always were an amazing artist, babe.)
And I could never make you mine.