when it tears at your blood

the thing feeds you a lie of eternity with its teeth,

a promise of forever thinner than threadbare

     the adoring crowds you see in the skull’s theater

     are nightmares wearing stolen flesh,

     they skinned your memories for disguises

     and want your autograph on demonic contracts

          souls are to be ground up and inhaled,

          the devil gets high on our misery

          so we can steal a few more seconds of illusion.

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