Paranoia wears a suit of crimson.
He walks down the hallway of my brain,
Shoes of steal clicking against my skull.
He takes pictures of my past, present, and future;
Warps them with shadows, all nothingness in the end
But somethingness for the time being.
I tried paying off Paranoia with peace but
He wanted compassion and love as well, but
I don’t negotiate with terrorists of the soul. So,
I left peace on the bargaining table,
Smoothed my palms acrossed the slick surface.
Paranoia has yet to reply to my offer.
