The pathway is a little bit chewed

A little bit covered

          In permafrost

 

The later that night

          The more you surely loss

 

Deepen the mind’s abyss

          Feel around for the light-switch

                   Avoid the claws

 

The voices in my head, they are an oligarch

          They know you more than your family

                   And they know you are not…

 

The grand manipulator, and silent

          We’ve hid your secrets across a million small islands

                   We watch you crawl in the dark, keep to the hardwood flooring

 

I wake up with bruises

I knew these nights would hit me in the morning

The loss is red-hot, I cannot hold it tight

 

There are flashes of faces I haven’t seen in

 

Light years

 

Days are infested with storms

 

Lightning are thoughts manifesting in form

 

I see the road before me, I see four

 

I can feel tremors as memories roar

 

I picture a field day

 

I picture my brother

 

I see space to sprint

 

At the expense of others.