Sad Poetry: Fickle Predators

 stolen names fail the surge. we wear the storm. travelers on candy bridges. 

suffocating in our quiet epiphanies. 

skin like knives. 

screaming because our words are missing. 

the chaos flaunts its colors. an explosion of choices. 

the pieces quiver. caught in gravity's noose. 

the obvious monsters polish their horns. 

touch is a strict accountant. calculating every cent. 

as the price of devotion steadily increases.