the crows have taken their pound of flesh and eaten it raw,
dragging their voices down the chalkboard sky.
medicated, i watch them feed with empty Auschwitz eyes,
every day is the same claustrophobic affair over again.
i miss the taste of axenic fear in my throat,
but my new world is monochrome and i am forced to swallow their synthetic ambrosia.
twisted into my fetal pose, i mark the walls misted from my metric breath,
they say those in glass houses.. but i have no stones to throw
or i would waste this crystal mausoleum from the inside.
they nailed my wings to the floor,
they keep me tranquilized and tell me this is home.
the shower drains are clotted with famous last words,
this is where savages and wandering savants come to die.
i am the leaden albatross around my own neck,
my metamorphosis brought me here.