Craving – The Daily Post prompt
The stream of fine, dulcet phrases in your sight
is a masquerade to conceal the mess.
Ricocheting uproar, piling mayhem
I’m all chaos on the inside, no less.
Perennially mercurial, entangled in scepticism
I get cravings for troubles, I confess.
So don’t ask for the keys to my heart baby,
it’s darkness in there
you’d lose your way into the wilderness.