starve the lights to let the darkness take form.
looking for a way out, lust for escape, you want to jump to happily ever after but the storyline is tangled, spread hopeless through your circuitry, glitching your words into soiled utterings from a wounded animal.
primeval and neo-born, witch and ballerina ribbon-tied to your pyre to go out in magnificent keening, running out of safety routes as the blood from your mouth spills into the empty cage of your chest.
words like razor blades fixed in the thick wrists of yesterday to cut through the surface and undress every atom that dared hide itself for fear of war.
you get off to the grace in stealing glory from death so pack your metaphysics, there’s no chance of dreaming your way out this time.
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