your bones are gymnasts
and your mind is an empty void
waiting to be filled with many hued lies...
my silver tongue wetly tracing
sugar coated dreams in your
cold, sticky heart...
ripping open delicate seams
and filling you
with
congealed, honeyed laughter
take an extra large portion of
pipe tobacco and silk stockings
feel your raw desire ooze,
hotly medicating
humility

your soul, like an open closet

you consume happiness like the palled creature
that dwells within us all
parasitically feeding
on self confidence...
fear is your drug of choice