We stand in the shadows.
Meandering about like blind puppies.
Repeatedly stepping in the **** we leave behind.
We can take off the blindfolds.
We could change things.
We don't dare.
We can't.
We've become to accustomed to the madness.
We've found comfort is the screaming.
Any other sort would only draw suspicion.
The darkness, the moonlight, the silence.
Bearers of our secrets and desires.