Midnight

Without a desire. We become a liar. Ourselves. Futile fertilized. A fire of your desire. Put out from black lips. Life’s silhouettes dancing within the shadows of your equilibrium. Laughing at you. Gagging on laughter. Giggling little girls. Twirls. Hair wrapped around tiny fingers. They do the most damage. Sucking in the air. Suffocating all of those who are around. Cannot breathe. Cannot seethe. Release the beast onto them all. Ripping out their equilibrium’s. Quickly devouring all of the flowers within their body’s devastated garden. Choke hold over the bold. Midnight sacrifice. This is when the tangled web begins to beg. No mercy will ever be shown. Lips sip. Torture grips. The midnight which has failed to grow.

Leave a comment