It hangs low in the sky
Murderous red
So large children fear it is too heavy to rise
And it will hang there
Just over the ground
Threatening to fall
For the rest of tonight

Already it calls to the oceans
It calls to the bodies of water
The bodies of men
The current under the skin shifts
But the tide that turns inside me
Does not lead to small acts of lunacy

The pulsing river of blood
Shoots through my hands
My neck
I can feel it warming
Too hot to think
And the skin that's foreign but also familiar
Rips through my own
And I can vaguely feel the tips of my teeth change
The scent in the air intensifies
And I
Am
Feral
Carnal
An animal of rage
On the verge of leaping
After that strong scent
Reaping undeserved revenge
Upon my own skin that's not my skin

When what is left of me in this body
Feels hands grip
And hold me back
And bring me to earth
But they are not there
They are hands of ghosts
Of shadows in my mind
And I speak their names softly into the dawn

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Yay! Close me and go back to Pyrate M's Fictional Bric-A-Brac