Cultus Sanguine Open Face Surgery
I've learned to control my thoughts
ever since I recognized the first eavesdropper:
those who listen in on my thoughts,
my logic, my sanity
I cannot let them know I don't know
the verses, or converse in my head:
lash out at future foes,
banter with friends I've not yet met
The psychoaggressive minions of
your lord mock with laugher I can't hear,
with hidden scowls they admonish me
Nothing's sacred, Nothing's safe:
your filthy god is omnipresent,
this undying nonentity that haunts
my every waking dream
They watch me, his mortal flock,
they know me now by sight alone:
my thoughts are too well concealed...
Yet I sense more scrutiny
Fleeting lucidity's too loud for me,
let me be my silent self:
our existences irreconciled
Make them stop! I'm rotting fast...
The answer, painful though it may be,
is change
Alter my outer shell...
The listener's may not, then, know it's me
Open Face Surgery: short of pain
and long on masquerade
Ounce by ounce, lose a little weight
nip here, tuck there... So who needs eyelids?