You bend me over like the west of the winscott hierarchy. I think this mask is wearing thin. While I am wearing thick. I settle into this despair with open arms. I need no pharmacy to calm my insecurities. I’ll wear them well and relinquish my hold on you. I ponder the impurity in my ways. I set you up for failure as I set the alarm off and await my consequence. I bask in the glory of smothering you with these pillows of lies and betrayal you fill so full. Plump as ever, and yet empty and bare. I see these mirrors and rage embodies my whole self. I am unsuccessfully assuring myself this is good for creativity and bad for my soul. But I don’t trust myself when I’m alone. These thoughts wreak havoc on me. I see images of gruesome scenes flash before my eyes. I desperately want to look away, but curiosity has once again maimed the cat. Rendered helpless under this hollow moon of shallow conquests.
