Hollow my eyes and cut the tails that lead me to my histrionic ties.
Herein lays my corruption, my stinking lies, a list of sodden, long-drawn goodbyes.
They never leave me,
No matter how much I try to out bleed and sweat and starve them.
They’re insanity’s stashed-up trinkets and treasures.
How did they get here, is what I once asked,
Which led me to a flock of dark angels, unmasked.
I knew what wicked things they had wrought,
And so I ran, but they chased me naught.