Grizzly Static

Stomp on your fingers

I will, dare me.

I strolled through a thick

film of fog

that drained me of myself.

I sniffed out your lurk

once my skin

was covered in slime

and specks of ash.

How pathetic of you

to control the minds

of innocence.

How pathetic of you

to drain the tears

of the ones you love.

Drag them out

of your cave

like a hungry midnight blackbear,

toss them over the cliff

into a pile of limbs and torsos.

Your mind is one lane

down a road full of reapers.

A dead end

of nothingness

where you lay your head

after a long day of desperate control.