largish/dominant

there is a silent one, a scalding still grief from within, a house of former logs, the drywall cracking like its skin, a shattered timecard clock, left in the hallway starts to hiss at you alone, you feel confused, when the chiming time never hits, i've seen you walk it out, and i know what makes you twitch, a set of stab blab scabs, you only scratch to feel the itch, you've got a key lord scar, that you want out there, turning tricks, and you can only speak the truth, with the blood of god, on your lips, your blue jean pocket has, a faded skull can scar on it, a halo on your ass, the only place that it could fit, at every curtain call, hold for applause, smile, bow, and catch the rose, it's old and it is proof, of your finest hour, in this shit