finite geyser
I watch addiction by the sockets of its eyes,
mangling and dangling atop an old disguise,
seeing flies drop dead with a hole made led,
dripping down fingernails of both blue and red.
Oh you transfigure growing bigger like a juicy steak,
popped by blood distilling from the mosquitos arsenal,
shipped across lands gone bland to the masses parcels,
shitting and fighting and drinking and screaming,
yelling and whimpering and towering and being,
the shadow looms in the moons and the crest of your heart,
beating by the war drums ever so slightly,
quieter.
lingering in that abyss,
with the flames gone weaker,
by the days singing bleaker,
and the actions are frightening,
only showing to near lightning,
those eyes heightening,
vacuumed and withdrawn,
until your gone.
dusty mist