Fur coat black as night. No reprieve from drooling fangs, three heads lolling side to side like a junkie in a fit of fury. Emotional noise gates and stoppages preventing feelings from making sense; A new set of entrapments. Lately, I’ve been fudging the reports looking down mountain passes carefully – Do you know how to get to Hades? A bark that rumbles in whooshes down damp corridors and caves, hearing the dripping of water, or blood. There are veins of ore in the walls, untapped. Grey, onyx malice. The confines are rich with energy and history. Paying the ferryman, tipping him well. What’s his retirement plan look like? Does someone else take over? Lids flutter open to guardian angel wings picking up steam after cooling down. Lightheaded apathy. Dissociating everything. Caramel colored eyes like toffee gaze down freckled cheeks, smiling kindly. Yesterday’s strawberry-dappled cheeks have entered the mind games once more. Dear Evan Hansen, today’s going to be a great day and here’s why. Plush syncopation dying out like extinct characters dancing dimwitted narcissistic swing. Hips sway outward and side to side. Recovery surgery.

Author: Roe

30. she/her. Songwriter & Trek Punk Soul™.

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