Wolf In The Pen

Paint your crosshairs across my faded heart.
See if I care when you threaten me in the dark.
You see me but I am blind to the sight of you.
What is carved deep within has been created too.
Madness dressed in lies to expose and inflame.
This disease is deadly cause its reached my brain.
No more wanting to be twinned and screaming.
Get those hooks from me, I will keep whining.
Pain is no metaphor when it strikes like a blade.
All these words you speak are excuses repaid.

Dingy and shrunken is how I’ve become.
From my memory you have sucked all the fun.
Torture the deities and leave me for the crows.
Company is better for they are honest in throes.
Daring and darling not words I can stand.
They remind me of your favourite fetid style and brand.
Snakes for skin and spiders for eyes.
Demon that is barely wearing a disguise.
Claim here is strong but that’s how I feel.
Too much time from me I allowed you to steal.

Pick out the fragments and sow shrapnel deep.
Every moment I am reminded of the weak.
Counted amongst the creeping crones.
Before long I might be nothing but bones.
Sharpened me against the walls of dread.
Peeling back my universe until all skin I had shed.
Sick sense of purpose that afflicts what is you.
In that cesspool is where you left me to stew.
What sort of monster should you be counted among?
From my point of view whatever you are should never be sung.

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