Can't Find Them

Swoon, gaze, somersault, glass
Ensnared by an inkblot trap
Melting crystal, play and toil
Words amoral seethe and boil

I am switched off and sunk in
Chipped away with pieces thin
I'm what you call a black sheep
Sleeping with dogs not Bo-Peep

And the moon doesn't howl back
But sometimes I still dream that
The sky opens up, jaws wide
Swallows me up, do or die

Lay into your apocalypse
Bound to your warmth, not the cold of what is.