Work Text:
The man in the shrouded corner... watching me with one eye.
He’s always there, counting the minutes, bringing me down from my high.
Shivers slither like snakes, up and down my spine.
My body freezes and rots, exumed, not turning to the right.
But I still break out of my tomb, throw my undead arms up in praise
For a beating, bleeding heart, and a hand to raise.
Because I can run but I can’t hide, he’ll follow me anyway.
If he wants a show, he’ll get one, and I'll perform til his bullet snatches my soul away.
My blades scrape the ice, water puddling at my feet.
The sun is scorching my floor, never again may I skate in glee.
If I should stay, the ice will crack, no air in my lungs for me.
My blades will now rust to sharpen as I run to the other pond across the street.
While my limbs decay and wrinkles appear on my face,
They corner me with their steely knives, and in Hell I shall be placed.
I still run and bite, kicking them off my back, dusting off my lace.
Because I shall go out in finery, and explode with something more than grace.
I dance, glimmering in sweat on stage for crowds, knowing they don’t watch to please.
Their inner minds, no, they watch me in time for the feast.
My heart is in their pies, and my calves are seasoned in their teeth.
So for now, I shall shine, burn bright ‘til I see the light and what knives they’ll use for me.