As blood struggles to surface, whispers willingly trace my collarbones.
Every pore seeps an eerie murmur, and once released, forcefully wraps around these limbs.
My cheeks have gone livid.
I offer you an image so painstakingly vivid.
A heart holds an obdurate fever in which no being wishes to abide.
For within was once a battle where impulse and adrenaline did collide.
I insist that I only bear a sagacious case of psychosis.
I swallow capsules filled with hysteria of generous doses.
What is this grasp that so desperately lingers?
And now it proliferates and tightens its fingers.
It’s quite miraculously, inexorable that I am forced to brood.
Of such hopeless craving, obsession, swarming, and blood.
A hollow eyed owl perched within my soul sings.
Here grows a mystery untold wrapped in her wings.
