poisoned by imaginary things

This is the end, the redemption
Of savagery.
Death for your ghosts.
Your ghosts who love to eat your dreams.
Your ghosts that keep all in secret
Behind your tonsils
And screams.

You are one of this ghosts.
Looking, contemplating what you always feared
No colors, no sabors, no smells

You are one of this ghosts
Aren't you ashamed?

You're too busy to see
You're too busy too fucking see

Loosing control
But saying the opposite.

Spiders running thru your body
Webs in your lungs

And even when they are already in your stomach
Devouring all that remains

You
         continue
                           to
                                     say

'' I'm always controlling ''
But never really understanding
How gently
They keep hypnotizing

You