"March Hares" I scarred the world before I let it lay a finger on me. Perception is a thrown out key, shelter is a thousand miles away - "You don't know who you fucking are" - wrecked nights, so exhausted. I inhale to make sure my lungs still work, shatter the window. I breathe to check my vitals, collapse the door (there's no hope) - don't let me go.
"The devil, the deceiver" Formulate endless disconnect, this night was made to epitomise an insecure clarity - incomplete conjecture - we regress, we regress in convulsive movements. They'll cut off his tucking head, just so he can't speak.
all rights reserved