06-11-2024, 01:35 PM
Endless layers of black silk drapes; the shadows.
Separate, small, unsafe space.
A beacon, a beam, of pure white hot impurity.
Drawn in, crossing an event horizon long before awareness,
Long after warning.
Bodies cropped into little frames,
Little portions of littler people.
A subject unknowing, thus unwilling.
Those frames scattered across the universe,
Millions of shameful stars.
Keep your head down.
The sky tells the stories of your misdeeds.
You fucked up wretch.
Here’s a constellation of your form.
A whore.
Separate, small, unsafe space.
A beacon, a beam, of pure white hot impurity.
Drawn in, crossing an event horizon long before awareness,
Long after warning.
Bodies cropped into little frames,
Little portions of littler people.
A subject unknowing, thus unwilling.
Those frames scattered across the universe,
Millions of shameful stars.
Keep your head down.
The sky tells the stories of your misdeeds.
You fucked up wretch.
Here’s a constellation of your form.
A whore.