Through their blank eyes they speak their dead words as if they are them. They caress their means of existence as an exhibition of ritualistic rounds, with their spittle dried around the edges of their mouths giving way for the darkness to feed among each closing and opening of their haunted caverns; they truly believe they are among the structure of it all. And exactly as they are, we see.
If you can’t admire the brilliance of first light
I suggest looking in the mirror and telling yourself you’re worth it
Trust yourself a bit more, Love yourself deeper
Because you can’t admire the light if you’ve
Never truly seen it