Let in No Light
The art of numbing one’s self is very precise;
There is a science to the disconnect
And moldy pages.
Grab your cutlery, it is time to dissect and
The time for leaving is upon us,
When darkness becomes us like a little black dress,
A glove around our soft parts,
Holding us in so we may not spill our guts from seams.
A call to arms for hemming disgrace
Take up your needles and head in towards battle.
The art of missing someone is very precise;
There is a science to shutting eyes tight