warmup
Monday morning blues, the hues from the rusted lantern sprinkle on the walls.
A shadow sways swiftly through the open door, into the halls.
The night prior, a monster filled the spaces in your head.
You seem to be a stain on the sheets, spilled ink upon the bed.
A heartbeat seems to be the only sound you can hear.
Well, my sweet angel… this is it — you’re in fear.
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