Elle Mental

What can you
Do when there's no one
Left to talk with
When the flower has frowned its life away

The icicle chatters
And the chatscreen matters freeze
With nothing sympathetic left to say

Simply pathetic's how I feel
Turning wheels into whine
The dining room is empty
Full of ghosts whose hearts are dry

And I cry
For the frightful signs of freedom
The potassium in my blood
Silver metal baring open
Dipped in water too long
Not enough to live by
But just enough