212 °F - Everlyn

Throbbing pains cover my nerves

Once it starts it never ends

It’s hard to breathe when you push me

Not enough?

You strangle without using hands

Bled rivers

Barely shed

Cloud up our faith.

Walking Death

Hurts deeply

I’ll bring the truth to light by tonight.

Burn me down with your sharp tongue

I doubt whether you know.

You played God’s role lest you leave exposed.

Locked inside a puppet show.

Audience ready?

Take a look.

If there’s a hitch, don’t wait for me.