inevitably
ruin visits beauty—
pale Death comes,
takes what
he wants
and spits
back at you
what lean shreds
are left—and then,
after that
happens, all you
can manage
to do is
wake up—
and look
around, bug-eyed
dumb-
struck
and amazed
at just
how much—more terrifying
the real thing—is
and spits
back at you
what lean shreds
are left—and then,
after that
happens, all you
can manage
to do is
wake up—
and look
around, bug-eyed
dumb-
struck
and amazed
at just
how much—more terrifying
the real thing—is
than the daydream.
