A fool with such little knowledge
In innocence
Betrays himself.
To cover foreign substance
And start to wake
In that pool of grotesque emotion.
Turn away from what you are
Despise your flesh
If you know what it is.
Run not towards an image
But flee from all
Everything you touch
Poison to everything you are.
Insecure being
They will destroy more than flesh.
So be like a ghost
Weary to be in sight
Hungry for companionship.
What harm is there in coming forward
When you are dead?
Transparent being
Misery is not limited to those
With flesh to burn.
Now in plain sight
Do not let them touch you
The ever-changing
The confused
Phantom on Pinkerton and Pinkerton.
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