A decade of murder,
hollowed out corpses
surrounding and following
everywhere I go.
It always comes back here,
rolling on the floor
watching myself watch myself
in an endless set of paved roads
that haven’t known me for years.
We’ve got everything to look forward to
and always will
because faces will always hide what’s behind them
and what drives them
until they dry up and yellow and crack
and leave nothing to the imagination,
save the universe.