Hurt + Fake

Stars aligned as the crests of hurt
slash into my dry lips
Sending agony throughtout the tormented figure,
That is the wrenched mass:
My heart

Aches swirl in the body of my being
Hell unleashes itself among the slaughtered thoughs
About the shell that is myself

I'm a fake.

My mind repeats,
But I don't listen.

I never do.