nothing said

is there anybody there
anybody cares

music to any one's ears
night terrors
screams
tortured young voices
to another

enemies public and private
friends no more
but facades
garish smiles,
all white
nubs of bone
sharpened
tooled and fitted
straight in a line like little soldiers
or automatons
toothy they are

a terminal diagnosis leaves
no room
for anything else
Life is different how?

Prayers
to be kept in
spoken, whispered, pleaded, begged and cried
for what?
A blanket at least keeps you warm
but words

words are as good as the source
unless the source is not

cold words
coming from those
nubs of bones
lying in wait
"the better to eat you my dear"
he said
but
he wasn't
joking
the only laughter
at an other's discomfiture

the right words?
who says you're the one
to know
to say them
to put them in my mouth?

i die
you win, they do
sometimes then
we must
others not
but we can't put a word to it

you know all the words
you pick
you can't be more wrong than this.