The Craft
The same stars
shine overhead
for all of us
so we must create
our own constellations
and never slip on them
it’s how we answer
our purpose
cuz we are the players
the play’s the thing
tragedy that makes sense to us
how we live
who we love
so we watch
actors getting into character
but not really
actors turning themselves
into haunted houses
removing their eyes
replacing them
with broken windows
moonlight squeezing
through the cracks
the feelings we suppress
but shouldn’t
the sunglasses we wear
the audience that leaves
we can’t flush it all away
I guess great art
turns us all
into haunted houses
standing strong
before a billion wrecking balls
we just need
enough time
to tell our ghost stories
for those mangled moans
to find new homes