Visions of the masses leaving trails-
Circles around me, a vortex-
Leaves swirl and fall-
A chill in the air, cooling your black wings-
Priming your body to pick at me, a prey.
Your beak opens, revealing a relapse hair trigger
Firing bullets of fear-Piercing my soul, I lay down.

I can see the cumulus clouding the skies from here-
And then I see your face looming over mine like a twisted doctor
Laughing as he tells you to count back from ten-
Before he opens me up and picks at my brain.

Changing, manipulating, losing all senses before I get to feel
The relief of the rain that drives the desert heat of you away.