Shaved legs,
blown glass cracked on the edges
headache handouts
two for the price of one
sell away all our liberties
and let them speak for us.

Play out the wrong card
the captain salutes a sinking ship
and a hurricane winks at the corner of our eye
pulled in a whirlpool.

Tornadoes suck themselves in
paradox in a pillowcase
and you wonder what's keeping you up all night
(no, I can't sleep, either)
the monster under your bed
or the monster laying there
inside your mind all the time
and making your hairs stand on the ends.

Life playing on repeat
sinks clogged with secrets too painful to keep
so hard to settle and slow down
rushing head, losing pace
merciless when you beg to finally collapse.

Shave the ashes from your legs
you're fragile like glass
so easily blown and shaped
so easily swallowed and cracked
(and it's not just the edges this time).