• i.
    We pretend to light candle passageways
    down crowded halls,
    voices lingering, entwined
    under the sound of hushed alarms.
    You laugh, twinkle-soft
    against a backdrop of stars,
    smoke twisting into the sky –
    we know that this tastes like freedom,
    and that freedom never lasts.

    ii.
    These moments have been
    ensconced in perfection,
    soaked in miraculous joy
    (a feeling of confusion and tranquility).

    iii.
    We are all liars,
    hiding behind our words,
    leaving doors open
    just a crack
    for the light to escape.

    We never want to be found.

    iv.
    We are actors &
    our performance was a flop.

    Now we gather our broken stage
    in bits and pieces,
    charred beyond repair
    (lacking recognition)
    into our arms,
    collapsing from
    the weight of our lies.

    v.
    I set off ghost alarms
    in the middle of the night.

    vi.
    Criminal, I'm well aware.