Things that go bump in the night like the roar of the raging lion deafening your arcadian silence
Like the face of a wolf chasing you in your dreams, claws out, jagged teeth already sharpened, salivating at the scent of your fear
And the sudden crash of the lamp on the ground because your clumsy thoughts blew it off the stand in a rush of puzzling ideas and jigsaw hearts overflowing your mind

The fishnets sloshing the seas through the holes, piecing together lost trails of a failed relationship, letting the salty essence linger behind, drifting to the saliva glands inside your mouth
And suddenly you're shot up with a narcotic, straight into the veins where he used to live, vacating the premise, making room for a sense of euphoria that consumed me as a whole

A treacherous path ending with a unceasing fall off a cliff where the rocks slipped too often, and lessons were never learned from the kids next door
Cracking floorboards circumference the room where they used to talk in circles, collecting feelings and saving them inside the pockets that somehow found holes in themselves

Then the wind emulates the whispers hiding behind the fading foliage of the trees that secured everyone's trust and captivated their souls deep within
Violent kisses used to tear my skin apart until a gun to the back of my head held more depth than I've ever experienced in my whole life

I searched the sand for the purpose I wished to hold in the palm of my hands but it sifts right through the solid foundation of my finger tips that rot with poison ivy
Ever since I felt the tree that infected me with  the venom in the form of sharp bristles and empty sap sacks

Whatever the blue sky may represent, I see dark clouds forever and a day, even when the sun returns my calls, and with a bitter tone and a touch of sizzling rain, offers me a chance to see the bright side they all dream of
When the opaque sky eats the sun I find solace in home, where the stars collect my secrets like coins and hold my wishes like the hand of a boy I thought I once loved

I morph into the worst version of myself when the screams encapsulate my emotions and my face is no longer skin and bone, but vicious fangs and yellow eyes
So what, if I differ from the rest of the pack
A lone wolf or a raging lion, I am not them
And I never will be

Until the rings awaken me as my eyes flicker back to their hazel nature
And the bags roll beneath my eyes, with a darkened presence treading under
And the sun returns for the day, a gift I cannot return
And I walk down the same road, leaving the covers rumpled and the sheets entangled with one another

The mess correlates to my dreams
And all of the hearty burdens I continue to bestow inside the treasure chest deep under the ground
I shall keep these somber ideas and thoughts at the top of the bookshelf, a place you'll never look, a place you'll never find
Just smile and fake it until you believe in it's proximity to the truth