Catch me like a chill,
your gaze like lightning rods in my chest
Washing over against indifferent rocks
Your siren song has killed our best

The price of sleep paralysis is the weight of a ghost
same as the rain, quenching the hot bite of lightning 
tonguing, forked, speaking fear in thunder
breaking and rebuilding trust
in a crescendo of lust
eaves outside of my window, dripping dreams ...

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