the sky is gray, empty, cold
its sunset throws metallic reflections
on that desert you hide inside
your empty thoughts
your insomniac abortions
gutted outside under starless nights
hiding behind your steel there’s
obsidian, and never ending days
it’s raining blood now
it hammers your head
it rips your heart
leaves you breathless
you barely remember the snow
from that picture, the one you couldn’t understand
you are wonderful, while you lick your own wounds
while crying salt all over them
doesn’t matter, you whisper
without hate
and you almost, almost throw up
the air is thick with iron
a fragile, porcelain dawn
shines from behind your walls
and almost, almost
makes your hell disappear
your eyes are wide open
shining through your dirty hair
flies are trying to eat them
dark circles are trying to dig them out
you almost, almost
can’t see anymore