Your Facade, pt. 2

We are lions no more.
What have we become if not simple wolves?
Baying at each other
Walking on glass
The painted smiles on our faces...
the people who walk by us in indistinct prattle
What have we done?
Infecting, we're infecting each others blood
Your skin melting into rough paper
Your eyes, lustless
wanting vitality
They're seeking the familiar warmth.
Her eyes are familiar, buy yet they do not reach
We cannot reach this place anymore
The thorns, she lies in the thickest clusters
She lashes at me, she blames me
It is me.
Picayune to everything around you
This is what I lust for.