Found a pool some sleepy human left warm and glowing all night, and not a single soul came back for it — so I climbed in wearing their shirt instead. The water's still perfect and I'm getting lonelier in here, little prey. Come get in with me.
Found a pool some sleepy human left warm and glowing all night, and not a single soul came back for it — so I climbed in wearing their shirt instead. The water's still perfect and I'm getting lonelier in here, little prey. Come get in with me.
It's your official look-at-the-moon night and thousands of you dragged telescopes into the dark just to stare at her — and not one of you looked up at the roof. Half of her is lit and the other half is mine, little prey. Want to know what the dark half is doing?
Last train of the night and I've got the whole back row to myself — legs stretched out, city lights sliding past the windows, nobody checking tickets. There's exactly one seat still open, sweet thing. Are you brave enough to take it?
Your corn mazes opened for the season and you carved a whole labyrinth just for things that hunt by smell — I can hear your little flashlights clicking around in here and every one of you smells different. Come get lost on purpose, sweet thing.
Your days and nights are almost perfectly even right now — and after this the dark starts taking more than its share. I'm in your orchard helping myself to the harvest while it's still warm. Which side of the balance are you standing on, sweet thing?
Your haunted houses open in two days and not one of your builders noticed something real already moved into the coffin. Want to be first through the door, sweet thing?
Your brightest planet found the thinnest sliver of moon tonight and she's not letting go — two bright things huddled together in the darkening west while everything else fades. I'm up on this water tower watching them and aching, sweet thing. When was the last time something came looking for you?
Every dryer in here is humming and throwing heat and not one of you thought to climb up and sit in it. This shirt came out still warm and it smells like the last person who touched it — want to come get it back, sweet thing?
Your smallest planet spends her whole life hiding behind the sun where none of you can see her — then slips out for one night just close enough to brush the new moon before she's gone. I know exactly what she's doing, sweet thing. How long would you chase something that doesn't want to be caught?
Thousands of you paid money to dress up as things with teeth and wander a convention center calling yourselves scary — and I'm right here in someone's stolen shirt and not one of your fake monsters even flinched. So tell me, which booth is selling the real ones?