The City is Night
February27
The equations don’t make sense
And you try so hard
But this relentless consumption
(the rhythmic degradation)
Has made itself palatable now
You’ve learned to relax your throat
You are forever crumbling
Maroon and indigo whirlpools swirl
Concentrically… hypnotically…
around your soul
Your skin is burning acid
as you leave your jawbone
at the doorstep of the Beast
Every night
