On the night of truth

An old poem of mine.

Look at the horizon, what do you see?
Can you see the air mending itself into fire
Can you see the clouds evaporating, turning into drops, dripping on your skin
And the rain, that is dripping on your skin, is acid that's burning through your flesh
It creates an empty void, opening you up
And even though you are exposed, you are hiding something
You are hiding something where it is impossible to hide
And still I can't see

I can't see, because maybe I don't want to look
Maybe I don't want to know
Maybe I'm afraid of you
Or maybe I know exactly who you are, what you are
And maybe I don't need your cold and exposed body to know
Maybe I already know
And maybe I'm your hiding place
I'd like to be your hiding place
So when acid is pouring down your corpse
You'll feel more alive than ever, because you are in me
And I am in you