Worn

Sharp and open

leave me alone

and sleeping less every night

As the days become heavier and weighted

waiting

in the cold light

A noise a scream

tears my clothes as the figurines tighten

with spiders inside them

and dust on the lips

of a vision of hell

I laughed in the mirror

for the first time in a year

 

The Figurehead, "Pornography" (1982) - The Cure

Done