Let me in,

just for a little while.

In your skin,

let me know just why

your line is so thin.

I’ll help you make your mind

up again.


You look like you’ve been struggling

with some kind of formula,

lost in the vortex,

riding the parabola,

all wild and enormous

and I’d like to come.


I don’t need to know

your secrets.

I don’t even need a clue.

I already know your deepest;

half an inch in to you.


You’re simple and uncomplicated,

all fear and guilt and petty lies

and not just a little bit of anger.

Nothing here

is much of a surprise.


I want to know

if you’re

even conscious.

I’m sure

that you’re unaware,

that you are such a burden

to everyone around you.


You’re high on virtue,

but really,

just a few seconds away from murder.

So much blood on your hands


don’t disappoint us now.


You really want the crown,

but you’re not worthy.

What a pretty

shame spiral.


No wonder you

have so many friends

on line;

just an automaton,

like them.

A perfect,

routine algorithm.


Even your lows are pretty high,

so you’re personified,

by a world

that would never,

ever hurt you,

until now.



HG – 2019

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