He's still here but
Is he still willing?
More so than me
Because he's my crab.
His scorpio rises
Riding a bull
Pliers hurt
But his outer shell
Glistens.
The creature is all about staying
It persists
Grabs
Claims
Instinct devotional and
He prays to me drunk.
But for what?
No!
I bid him to stop
And then again
He's the literary dream I asked for
Unaware.
He demands
And I am his
To come home to
Vent
Relieve.
Why me?
Don't have much grain
I'm nothing more than an oddity
A crooked arrow
Who can fly straight.
What he sees I'll never know
Still he stays
Enduring time lapses
Under muy loose chin
These jowls.
He wants this joking smile
My mockery of life
These worries followed by a breakdown
My sleeping body trembling
Under the influence of dreams.
Yes, yes, those things
I remember
He's that dream
The oldest one of all,
Devotional nightmare
Come to life.
