Intramural

These times of danger settle within.
On your eyelids and under your skin.
These creatures dwell out in plain sight.
They do not only pierce the night.
While people sleep and dream such dreams.
Dancing devils grow black and mean.
And they toil and think, and plot most secret.
To enter your soul, corrode; then keep it.
The ogres lick you with loving words.
That churn in your brain like diving birds.
Which peck and splinter all hope and trust.
And spit on dreams until the rust.
But these monsters don’t hide under your bed.
These horrors are the ones that reside in your head.

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