Sellophane

I am tired.
But then I am sure you are too,
what exactly are you looking for here?
Yes you, over there,
with your crown of expensive cigarette stubs
Reading assimilated poetry in a morbid asylum
What exactly are you hoping to find here?
No, I know this doesn't rhyme
And I know, this doesn't really quallify as a 'poem'
But then does it really matter
These half-choked out sentences
in the midst of red pills and blue pills.
Do they really matter?
What if you die tommorow?
What then, eh!
How many people are going to weep
over their great, insatiable loss?
Is that what a poem is?
A bunch of rhyming lines
shoved into each other,
dripping with carefully specified crimson blood
and exceptionally salty tears?
I didn't mean to write a poem
And I don't know how to stop
Guess I might not want to stop,
Think of this as a roller-coaster ride
that refuses to dips itself into a pool of crimson blood
or the daffodils of broken, torn and lacerated relationships,
What was it that floyd said 'And silence that speaks so much louder that words'
Well it's over now isn't it

Reference to Floyd, Last Stanza in the song by Pink Floyd- Sorrow.
'There's an unceasing wind that blows through this night
And there's dust in my eyes, that blinds my sight
And silence that speaks so much louder than words,
Of promises broken'