keen eyes, fever-bright in shadowed hallways
trace the tremble of a lover's breath
a tryst wrapped tight in velvet lies
soft silk around the scent of death
this face i wear is porcelain
kissed by time and powdered grace
a mask of calm, of quiet care
yet fissures bloom across its face
flakes fall like ash from burnt regret
old wounds stir beneath the gloss
where memory is sharp and wet
and every smile conceals a loss
behind the grin, the beast still sleeps
its ribcage hewn of brittle ache
the carnivore, with broken teeth
still dreams of all that it could take
dormant, yes, but never dead
its hunger is a steady thrum
it watches through the cracks i dread
and waits for weakness yet to come
it scents affection like spilled blood
the warmth of touch, the trust, the skin
and salivates, in shadows mute
at softness that it might begin
to rip, to claim, to hollow out
to chew through hearts like marrowed bone
and i, the host, can barely shout
above the growl thats not my own
so i pray not to god, but to the dark
that only one hand finds the reins
for if it seizes full control
ill drown beneath its fanged domain
my prey... my sweet, oblivious prey
you see the face, you kiss the lips
but you dont know how near you lay
to the thing with blood along its hips
and i, too tired to be your cage
too frayed to be your tethered wall
can only hope this love you wage
wont be the reason that you fall