When the longings of sleep are impossible to be satiated, trudging through the depths of another beings personal hell.

I hunger incessantly with the sweetest food surrounding me, marbelized and succulent, I cannot eat.

A monstrous dose of poison, council of unbridled emotions, flows from my entrails.

I no longer own my body. A specter has torn it from the sole  anchor mooring me to an existence.

Cast out alone. I am afraid.

I reach out into the void, piercing night’s sacred veil. Clawing through madness with frenzied hands of the Centimane.

To rediscover your porcelain skin, replete with its precious cracks in form. The antidote to save me from myself.