Her brain mauled by obscene thoughts of violence against herself
Defensive little child
Everywhere you look you see the strange, the unconscionable, and the harmful.
Who is good?
You search, gravitating towards the unbound; the ones stretched too thin, the taunting monsters hungry…
for a tension-ed mind to fondle.
You see eyes everywhere,
You search those eyes to find solace, only to come away with a light wisp of humanity.
They all want something or absolutely nothing.
Metropolis of hell
Metropolis to hell
Metropolis the indifferent
Nowhere is there any authenticity
Or is it you my child?
The one cradling your identity
Coaxing it to reveal, some truth of what is really inside.
Perhaps it is your soul that lacks luster and meaning.
You damned angel of metropolis hell.
Leave you say
How?
Chaos is all I know.