?

more please...

more of the applause, ground with tears. I guess it's what we love to hear, to ears and fears.
To holding up you fort in the dark. flickering glow. And all the other things that make each hour lay heavier on your lids.
When night comes into morning... the hour or two before the the light from the hailing sun comes to your predictions.
split between waiting and procrastinating its coming.
splitting a moment down to the smallest place to live.

leering faces back at you...

It's holds a tricky fate up to your face to test. Whether you can make at that far, and for the hours of the daylight.

we live at night... work.. rest and play. breathe the skin of dark. Decide for yourself a better fate, that somehow the sun would hold any more appeal for your face underneath.
Trapped into that which has become a natural home, in the unnatural hours of your eyes to see.