It's 3:42 A,M.

In a deep sleep, I walk down hallways of your house in search of you, my freedom- the one that makes my world seem okay. through frozen eyelids, I watch a formless silhouette dance on every wall thrashing its arms at dead moss on your doorway. with a sudden halt, like a gasp at the gallows, I step back while dead bees form the red carpet for my grand entrance. I'll cover you in warm earth- beg for a bed beneath your lips. I'll stagger into your bedroom, cut off my hands, and finally let you go.