slumped against the wall,
a silhouette stretched, long,
angles and whispers.
Jagged laughter,
Grinding bone.
Calls me unclaimed names
hurls shadows that stick to my skin.
The air thickens
Words taste of iron,
like blood caught between teeth
Is he man? Is he ruin?
Perhaps he is nothing,
perhaps everything
He watches me with eyes
that never settle.
Mockery, hunger, warning.
a thousand faces shifting
behind one mask.
When I blink,
he grows taller.
When I stare,
he folds into himself,
still grinning,
still waiting.
The room is quiet,
except for his voice
curling into me,
like smoke that does not clear.
dopaminepatterns 