His voice crackles through the cool night air
Like lighting cutting through the sky
The cut on my wrist itching slightly
Reminding me of the madness of my flight
My past haunts me still in the echoes of midnight dreams
I hear the scrapping of powder in the background
The sniffling of the nose with the question fogging the air
The river of denial runs deep in muddy waters
Threatening to drag you under and keep you locked in
I’ve seen this play out before with a mill city backdrop
It ends with broken hearts, broken dreams, broken people
The sick and twisted ride, only makes me vomit and sweat
There’s nothing you can offer me that I haven’t already left
Nothing you can imagine to be, that you could actually become
Stay in your dreamland coma and leave me to the present
I much prefer the reminder of a scar than a fresh new one
Iris Moon🌜
Warrior Moon 