the candlemaker knows your name

Collapse collapse sound the alarm the fox is in the henhouse full moon shooting star swallowed by a black hole gravity consumption fatten up and fade away dig a hole a tiny hole warm and hidden and safe go away leave me be sleep sleep sleep disconnect and disappear completely and never be no need for goodbyes if you ever were sell a trinket for a meal make a life save life own it now it’s yours pressure pressure a boiling pot explosions no one hears the screams and shouts don’t let them see your cracks they’ll come with a hammer they’ll strike with a sword maybe mold you into something they love but when they’re done so much of you will lie as cracked rubble and dust on the ground sweep it up and wash it away flush it down a drain then become a clog a nuisance just getting in the way disrupting their fat and happy parade call in the plumber he knows what to do maybe you’ll be friends but he has other plans you’re in the way but also a means to his ends what was chiseled off and tossed away just pays for cheap beer and a pack of cigarettes but the pretty you they fashioned from your whole is a trophy that they show at the entrance to the party a pretty thing that’s easily replaced a trinket a bauble valuable for a moment then sold to the highest bidder or a fire sale or an auction or hidden away in the attic with a sheet to make you disappear when all you wanted in the first place was to disappear but now they’ve used you up and you’re too tired to even dream.

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