A dance with the devil

Stuck on repeat. Like a merry go round that forever spins surrounded by an ocean of broken glass. Is there a right time to jump off? Rolling down an endless hill of thorn bushes.

Hell is closer than you think.

The wicked setting up shops to manipulate our purchases. Once the door locks, you can never leave.

Pure alcohol, with a splash of whatever you like. Mix it around and fall for my evil taste. Eyes widened but it’s too late.

You realize what you are in for, like jumping in to the deep end of an endless pool.

You see me smiling in the shallows waving you in, flesh standing on the back of a great white.

Bon appetite.