In the grip of daylight, the world turns too tight,
twisting normal into scenes that bleed and bite.
Echoes of compulsion, a ritual unfurled,
hands scrub raw, the desperation of this world.
Textures that cling like whispers of sin,
pain and pleasure, where does one end and begin?
Hallucinations blend with the concrete and the chill,
reality fractures, the mind bends to its will.
In the corners of everyday, nightmares play their part,
dancing in the shadows of a fractured heart.
The sexual, the sacred, twisted in their hold,
control and surrender, lost in the cold.
Objects fuse with flesh, a grotesque transformation,
desire laced with dread, a perverse fixation.
Poverty’s cold fingers wrap around the throat,
invisible chains that gag, no room to emote.
Every smile hides a crack, every touch has its mark,
in the depths of the mind, where light fears to spark.
The rawness of being, split open, exposed,
in the ritual of living, the heart forever deposed.
As the night cloaks the scars of the day’s harsh light,
we’re creatures of shadow, born from fright.
Living out terrors in moments too real,
cracked open, we’re bound by the horrors we feel.