Tight rope,
Escape goat.

Days blur together like a never ending train,
Bleeding teeth grind against iron rails.

Do you know what it's like to be a matched box end?
Forced to burn yourself down for the simple comfort of others.
Ignited by force,
quick set of swift hands dragging against a rigged edge.
Do not forget matched sticks rarely burn end to end, side by side with the sinking sun.

Do you feel the slithering rope binding...