The doorway is screaming
As we tear it apart to leave
After spilling our blood on the floor.
Breathe out
And out
And out and out and out
Until something inside you
Commands you to inhale.
Beads of sweat on the eyebrows
And then they dance on your lips
Before you swallow them whole.
I’ll suffer for art, sure
But I’d rather suffer for my own.
And the door is yelling once again,
Begging and clawing at itself
Like a schizophrenic who is both
Hero and villain.