I would gladly fall asleep on this bed of eyes, if it meant a view of the stars, but tongues fork and pupils dilate and I can no longer be seen. Faded visions and stretched skin. Put your wallets away, this show doesn’t cost a cent.
Hold your cards close to your chest, as I’m breaking fingers and giving up the rest.
The air drowns ugliness but I feel dirt on your breath. A sea of blank faced mannequins swaying in common rhythm, singing a merry song of the deer and the lion. I’ll be the latter and crush the spring in your step
The deer and the lion. Crushed ankles and broken wrists. I feed on the night air. Ill intentions and forked tongues, I’ll chew you up.
I will find the worst in you. I will prove you to only be an empty vessel. A thoughtless machine grinding out the product of your surroundings.