Snake Warmer.

I am forced to lay low under the second Sun.
I am sent to capture ghouls and bring them back to my own home.
The blood we share keeps you close to me.
The spit we swapped was from nothing more
than a lack of sleep and a lot of wine.
Yesterday clicked in my head, and now I am done with you.
You’re on the pity party wagon,
as you’ve been a passenger for quite some time, haven't you?
Rusted knives of our sharpest lies seem to hang in the balance.
I only wanted to top your record.
Temperature clings to a happy medium,
between crying for help and genuinely craving your own end.
I’m at a loss for words,
I’m at my own wit’s end.
You’re caught in your lies,
I’m stuck inside your head
I can’t be held responsible for a reckless bargain
you offered to someone else.
My reflection does not retain its shape,
And my stable hands are shaking again.
Nauseousness clings to our lungs,
filling our mouths with a steady form of all around
sarcastic laughing gas.
Shadows peak and we see light again,
But only until we get lost in each others heads again,
And I am forced to low once more.