Dark things uncover that which we prefer to bury, but at what depths shall we consider enough? We have shovels piled high in the closet and skeleton’s waving bye-bye, but they never really leave you know, and drown you in whispering sighs.
By the time you think you recover, they have groan in mass and are calling. Never cease to be alone after that from which you have stolen. They creep up through your skin, and flutter about in your stomach, slithering up to the heart where they eat till their bellies are swollen.
Cry! You cry out, but the flesh is a salty dish, you hover over your grave and pick at the coffin in vain. When can you be free from the mortals you have stolen, from the lives that are splitting your brain..?
Never; laughs your consciousness as it places the knife in your hand. “Now out you go into darkness and prey,” are the simple words it relays. And every step and trudge you take over and over it plays. Till shadows are dancing in lights ray, taking you farther and farther away.
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