The Mission – Ch. 13
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Ch. 13




Dream with your eyes closed

Then hide under the covers

Your monsters can’t see you

Through the hoard of past lovers

Someone once told me

Your skin was too hard

A shell of mache poetry

Left you hardened and scarred

Feels cold doesn’t it?

His breath on your shoulder?

Too bad there aren’t two of him

It could have been colder.

Saving grace was never meant to save face, and I tore through dark earth at a desperate pace, only to find you glaring beneath. A mask in your hand, and on your head: a wreath.

“God bless you,” I said

This will all be over

“No one gets out alive,

No one could solve her.”...

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