I had a dream when I was five
I made a choir out of silence
to distill the demons inside my mind
blood in the wine runs through my skin
and here they go
they pulled a gun against my head
they are putting me into sleep for mercy
it was a tight cocoon of arms;
metamorphic
gone in the gust of my gasps
tempest tosses me into turbulence;
push-pull
whilst clocks collapse away into sand
caged sparrow comes out of my chest
how come I miss the sadness, when it's all gone
I was hungry
to all the Gods I once touched
but the guns are gone in the gale
and so I am
