Like black fabric
Adorned in lint and fuzz
Your impurity is shown in the light
Like a nocturnal mammal
You feed in the night
consistently your prey
I provide you with your supper
A platter silver plated
Degraded as your ******..
Maybe thats why iv recently found joy in the pain
a tolerance for dégradation
The void is the same..
opportunities to pick myself a slightly wilted flower
To love that thing forever as if it was at full power
Looking past the imperfection that is all but pretty
Unless you do enjoy the thorns that mad your hands all gritty..

We always settle
Perfection isn't real
you love what you are given
Accept the best of deals
Not wondering what if there was something a lot greater
For that would tear apart whats in your hands
now or later..