Have a Nice Trip, I'll See You Next Fall

We all fall.

I sense the falling and it's not just me; it's you, too. We are not the same; there are separate sins for which we must atone.
Dabbling in the gray, and messing within the red magic, the seals and tomes,
I feel the dread welling up, the yellow misery corrupting my goblet, my chalice, and my cup.
All I hear is the arcane babble of the criminally insane. I lack the rationality and inane dribble of the sane, 
but you know, I have more in me than a cabaret of torn black hearts, more to say to other floozies and tarts.

And their sickly burlesque performances, I'd tell you about them, though, I haven't the foggiest clue on where to start.

There is more to me than these torn black hearts, more than you will ever see crumbling apart.
Just like me and you, they're wearing their newly-fitted faces and masks. It's nice to see I'm not the only one in my premature cask.
Like I would ever actually let you see me in this place, surrounded by all these people, unknown faces, and girls with questionable airs and graces.
I'm just a boy trying to escape his tasks; there is no reason to fret or for a person to ask.

I may be naïve, but I'm not gullible, and everything you see is edible, even I am edible, 
as you already know, leading me to question why these already-eaten sentences are so hard to swallow.
I'm afraid I may be naïve and not too gullible. Another long pause?
A fireplace crackled in her eyes, I wonder what she saw.
There's no delay to the hurt, no preamble to the despair, nor is there a prologue before the repair.

Reviews

[Doxophobia]

I really like the words and language you used in this, Brandon. It flows off the tongue quite nicely. Very dark and haunting, which I adore.
Bravo.
-Doxophobia.