Scavengers


Scavenger.
Hair slicked back, boy,
You're a cool, cool flier.
Wings wheeling about feathers,
Black, licked with wind blown fire.
Don't forget the prey on the ground,
They pray with their head held down.
The world is yours for the taking,
Crazed lips spiral into a grin,
You're insane, boy, you and your desires.

Prey.
Hair flecked gold, girl,
You're a beauty in disguise.
These oversized sheep sweaters,
Can't hide those mythical eyes.
Be wary of the vultures and crows,
Yet careful of the jackals and wolves,
Just keep away from all of those.
The poison in your blood won't do you any good,
Until after these flying frights are full.

Ghosts.
Pale faced spectators like spectres sit.
Hopeless sinners who refuse to intervene,
Watch this massacre of good,
The scavenger's haunches are lean.
Without so much as fang and claw,
Gold flecked wonder can only slump,
Into the tree stump she failed to see.
Raven haired, airborne danger diving in.
He is no stranger to speeds beyond him.

Conclusion.
Watch the blood trip from his maws,
This imaginary girl crumpled and broken,
Pieces of her stuck in ivory jaws.
And if you think this fiction is fiction,
Make your way to a window and hold on to the sill.
You are witness to things you considered fake,
To be very real. Moral.
Someone is waiting for you, too.
The scavengers will pick you clean when you die,
And until then you are always in company.
These scavengers are sleeping with you.
These scavengers are sleeping with me.