blood in my teeth
taste so familiar
as I head into another
lonesome night

nothing is funny
or ironic now
only cold reality
offers a blanket
for the night

it is a red scarlet markings
as I bite into this evening
that sits in my once beautiful
and magical mouth

it is truth that runs forth
staining the white jewels
perfectly placed at the end
of throat

the evidence there,
in the mirror,
terrifies me

because it reminds:
I am flesh and blood,
not gold or steel.

I am not perfect.
I am not immortal.

I am…
human.

oh, god.