at night i sleep with a teddybear called feeling. upon my pillow the drug is there, plain to see, but the random ink blots remind us of our mistakes, and deter. that’s all they are, anyway: products of a job never finished, never forgotten. there’s a shard of steel rapping at my window. he’s come to steal my heart away. this i simply cannot let happen, and i cry. yet, still he raps with broken paw and blood stained tear. only a fairytale spookshadow designed to entertain the minorities. so worry not for my safety; you’ve far too much too concern yourself with already.
