The Morning After

The powder on my face 

Aggravates a maze 

Upon my body 

Tis not iridescent 

As it bleeds through my skin

Crevices of my face 

Leaking

Singing the scoundrel is it

Moaning, it reminisces 

Echoing through the hallways

Calling an enchanted tune

Of these hallow, decaying walls

Humming in my bones 

Rattling my intestines 

Drowning my ears

In a hellish harmony

I cannot move 

Paralysis am I 

My muscles are lead

Morphine tainted with seduction

Its fingerprints call

And remain plastered 

Aware am I to see

Miraculously upon my gooseflesh 

Dripping across my chin

A disoriented daze 

I am the classroom

It may teach 

Softly scraping

Chalk against my teeth 

Ink dotted cursive 

Spilling out of my eyes

You see

The tune started in my sleep

One with the shadows

Hiding in the corner 

Is my very own conscienceness 

It touches me before wake 

I am the clay 

Contorted by dawn 

Investigative hunch 

By the morning they are gone