No title. Just my Saturday night. Sunday now.

Scary words are so deceiving
When they’re spoken with quiet apprehension from your lips
I said, “Trust in me despite the blood in my eyes”
I hear your screams over your cries
I want to look into your eyes and forget
Remember when the sun was high enough
to cast no shadows as you walk
No faces on the pawns in the view from above
Dear please was this your idea
of summer built on silence and no regard
I don’t remember what it feels like to be cold
Steer into the sun
I breathe your life in
with a taste of iron and sorrow
If only you were alive to feel this
Underneath the make-up and tears
A thousand faces of the ones who let you down
into a bed of feathers and nails
At least you’ll be comfortable when you die
You talk to me but you’re breaking up
White noise and drum rolls
A sea of fools tied to their graves
Creatures of habit and results