Drawn and quartered for blindfolded bystanders. Unworthy eyes will not be met by mine. Cauterizing wax-like wounds on wings of flies. I will grind my fingers into knives.

Covet Not the Pariah, An Apparition.
These Evening Arms, Every Empty Vein: Hesitation Wounds.
Fear for Me Now, A Captive to My Curse.
Far Beyond The Reach of Resurrection.
Absence.
Sands of sleep return to rust
Cover my cuts
With concrete
Opening arteries
Filthy hands pull shelter from beneath