children of the darkness,
listen in
you pretend that it doesn't
bother you,
but we know that you're just
concealing it,
from the prying eyes which
stare profusely,
through the dying light into
your own.

and you shake with the anticipation
of another
shot of alcohol dripping down your
aching throats,
numbing the pain of freshly broken
hearts.
and instead of screaming helplessly
at skies
of crimson, you watch the tears stream
down your cheeks.