Down on spiral drafts that smell of madness,
into the echoing insanity that lies in wait...
Silhouette attached to the lonely one
walking through someplace impossible...
Walking through the halls—a shadow
drifting at the edges, the far corners of a mind
given way to raving at the night through broken windows...
It’s a memory of dim light
When I saw you on the stairs
And entered the warmth of a world where you existed...
The hand that was not there broke my world
The voice with no mouth an echo of insanity
And the first step off a cliff I’d always chased
Edge over the black depths of silent whispers.