buried beneath the surface, something ugly to arise
     a demon yelling ******* at the someone they despise
this demon and this person, they share a pair of eyes
           if they look down all the see is, skinny mirrored thighs

all too soon i feel like, anger will arise,
      thrice the average wingspan, a vulture takes the skies
this vulture has no allies, he bites as a reply,
         all he feels is panic, steals my face for a disguise,


          a dog somewhere is barking, teeth dripping as he cries
      the growl he hears inside him, he cannot recognize,
  halfway catatonic, halfway energized,
his breathing has no breath in it, now he´s paralyzed

those blackened hands are shaking, those blackened hands are mine
          he claws away for hours, the sands are grains of time
   each second on the fingers dissolve to the sublime
    the blackened hands are shaking, the blackened hands resign



over and over a cycle, eight hours turn to nine,
         i walk and talk in loops i met the devil, ***** got me to sign
  might get to spit in his face and slavery decline
           no god and **** all master, i attempt to kick the vice

     for every moment i cling stuck, i see fufilled a certain price
to visualize and execute, no ****** rolls no dice
         no way this dog can claim back no otiose spent nights
              claiming the ones to come however many materialize


  old habits are a **** to ****, unified and interwined
       a tangle to get out of, gets hard to breathe or try
      i walk and talk in circles, i dont want to go outside
              watch time burn up ignited, too fast to say goodbye

       so shameful i regret it, unavoidable to cry
    impossible to tell apart, dont try calling, wont reply
     a shard of glass refusing to drip, bleeding tear duct turning wry
i saw a demon in the rearview, now he eats my ******* eyes



over and over a cycle, eight hours turn to nine,
        talking in loops to the devil, ***** got me to sign
      i count the tips of fingers, they add up, more than five,
  each stinging with a shameful tint, all ringing sharp like knives


do you  know how fear behaves, do you know where that ***** hides
           risen from deep down center front, corrodes from the inside
      obscure greyness misty haze, the eye is the ***** of sight
            the tongue is for the tasting bits, the brain is made for flight