Swimming in the thicket
Thickness of thorns tearing the fabric
Bones ache as blood curdles
It's bad magic.

There’s a chance at this,
Hunting the wishing wells for a mad Alice
White rabbits,
Time watching like a gatekeeper
Tight rope overhead tiptoeing past all seers
Never saw me coming, no.
Not when I’m silent.

Behind the veil of a smile,
Lurks a wolf’s grin
And I’m licking greedily,
Needing to feed my violence.

You’ll never know how these gears turn,
Feel the dark tides smack along the shoreline
Tripping the trip wires —
I’m snapping and you can’t see the monster lurking.
My mind should come with a warning sign.

“Danger close”