Things That Bang

Fiction: Why?

Pain thrives in your bruised heart and the dreary pysche turns mean tricks of happiness. Bum your drink from other's lips and demand reprieve from another's embrace but the heart bleeds and bleeds as you bounce on a make believe trapise like a sad joker entertaining those who suffer their own passions. Stiff upper lip and the glittering eye burns with zealous authority. There are many who would willingly partake your pain but you nurse your demons alone. Self destruction- a steep price paid for your creativity. Question remains- Why?