yami richardson
The air is thick with strangersLaughing through your screaming lungsImploding in your chest like deathAbsent exit signs ignite the flames,The fear, the rage that tear down wallsAlas, in dreams alone they all collapseThese hoarders of paragraphsAnd alibis and secret lies and hollow needsAnd enemies that draw you inThese pillars of everything mundaneAre but a gateway to oblivionFever burning, weak and paleLike vultures to the wounded they’ll comeYou can’t afford to be this frailThey’ll steal youNot cut out to followNor fit to ruleA dethroned king of diamondsIn the garments of a foolThis jest of chaosThis irony of common fateSome like dominoesSome like angelsApartIn loveFrom graceWe fall fall fallFever burning, weak and paleYou can’t afford to be this frailLike vultures to the wounded they’ll comeTo steal youDeceive youMislead youErase you