Performance in solitude for the blind beast faithful to shadows

Drop the stream through this sieve into the bottle Where it shouldn’t belong you wish to Drink up the poisoned milk in infinitesimal gulps Of deathly satisfaction only because The glass shards under your feet pretended To be the grass and you believed as much as That what felt like downfall was anything resembling warmth Sneaking snapshots of neglect for nothing else Is allowed to who you know yourself to be And nothing else is a possibility for the Identity was outlined in ink and blood and Disappointment and disappointed you are As a way to make the world feel familiar At least there is one listener to make one feel at home While the rest hold on to their promises While keeping their ears open and their feet in the destined direction And you are wasting away the precious moments To drag yourself through the dessert of Familiar bitterness To be seen through the prism of your Poisoned safety blanket Only as illegitimate

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