Always remember to neglect this place.
Dim flickering light.
Wet rusty needles dipped in thick pools.
Like the skittering fingers of disturbed refuse.
The things that drag against your skin and leave cracked, drawn itch.
Like a pollen of ichor and oil in the air.
Settles and tints.
Turns every sneeze gray.
Ever wheeze mottled with red.
This is the truth you craved.
The hubris you prescribed.
The opening to a close.
Strange unwillingness to patronize.
Even more deranged is the impulse to watch.
You'd have it no other way.
Watching a man starve in a stocked pantry.
A dog drown in a desert.
Humanity wither in an ever surging soup of mankind.
Wallow in the spectacle of the third act.
Just don't linger for the curtain call.