Well Fed

He feeds on terror A steady diet

In the Words

There is innate power Within words

The men in white coats Circle me like vultures

He tried so hard To get his name known

There's an itch inside my brain That reframes my state of mind

All in the same ivory tower.

Pitter, patter as mirror shards Rain down on the porcelain sink

Sewn shut I cannot say A word against you

Drink your poison Every last drop

I've made friends With the monster