I’m building my castle out of shadows
And the sun is going down.
The moon cuts like a razor
Through my bedroom window,
And my eyes swim in darkness, searching
For the lies that creep under blankets
And skin.
Moonlight lurches over the bed like dying worms.
Dreams twirl, fading into the starry ceiling, and
Teardrops shatter like glass,
Their poems spilling on the floor,
Lost.
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