Inside: we are a mess

Of flashbacks and diluted green tea

(d’you know how gross it tastes?)

And swords

That’ve never been sharper.

 

Inside: you are a madman

And I am perfectly sane

Except I’m full of wolfbane

That prevents calcium from

Building razors inside the cavern

Of my mouth.

 

You’re putting your head in between a lion’s jaws

With eyes wide open;

Ready to accept the loss

And eager to provide entertainment.

 

I hop on it’s furry back

And land right in between the vertebrae

Clutching its neck

Wrist bones deep in melted gold.

 

Sold. Our relationship has been purchased

By the ones who can really nurture it.

 

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