Go ahead and cross the street if you think that by staying in the light, you’ll safely slip away.
But I’ll bet your instinct tells you something isn’t right if I was also watching yesterday.
What you don’t know is I’m a thinner of the herd, and thinning season is in the air.
My dear, I fear you drew the shortest straw, and now you must accept your time is here.
So struggle if you wish to play the role of the fallen foal.
I like what you become when all that’s left is fear.
It makes you say what only I should hear.
The sort of secrets you would only share,
that silent burden only you could bear,
when you recognize your final breath is drawing near.
I walk the streets a thinner, kicking up the scent and slowly finding the trail.
I’m biding my time, I’m taking it in, I’ve figured you out, I’m hunting you down, I’ve cornered you off. The hunger is real.
Feel it, beat it, break it, bite it, crack of the bone, fall to the ground, hands at your neck.
And the musk of your skin when I mount the attack and at last you give in:
be still, my aphrodisiac.
Let’s drive the streets, just you and I.
Let’s leave this city, you and I.
Let’s travel homeward, you and I.
Across the threshold, you and I.
Descend the staircase, you and I,
into the room where you and I,
will soon discover, you and I,
just what we’re made of, you and I.
Now listen, you can hear your heart beating loud like a butterfly trapped in a jar,
and your arms flail wild as a bird at a windowpane.
And your eyes grow wide when you’re watching the knife dig inside:
hush my child, we’ve only started the ride.
Waiting, wincing, wriggling. You will move for me in ways you never thought you could,
and you will plead with me for sympathy in wicked ways you never thought you would.
And then one day you’ll abandon to me with a glance and a sigh,
and I’ll know that the right time has come.
I’ll cinch the cord and pull the mirror close.
Thy will be done.
Watch it all drain through the grate in the floor.
See your underside gleam in the light.
And while I stretch your hide to dry in the sun,
behold the life that dwells in the marrow of the bones evanesce into memory.
I warned you. I told you what you’d need to know to endure what befell you.
For I am not he who decides who is born as a lion or a lamb,
and you shall not begrudge me what I am.
Now writhe for me just one more time.
Now plead with me just one more time.
Now cry for help just one more time.
Now pray to god just one more time.
Now smile for me just one more time.
Now breathe for me just one more time.
Now blink for me just one more time.
Now squeeze my hand just one more time.
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