rip the flesh and
let it be known
who you are behind
closed doors
on the other side of the
locked bathroom door.

on the floor where
you hang in a fog of
delusions and paranoia
seeping out of your eye lids
tip toe down
the hallway, it creaks within
the silence
it moans within the
noise of fear

Tear it down
the grief pouring
out of your veins
examine yourself
like a blueprint you
crafted yourself.
as it was back then
a game of darts
hitting the target and always
loosing.

The lighthouse
smash the windows
use the wreckage like leading lines to a final destination.