Prayer

You were Sybil by
chance.

Poor Miss
Vane
tripped on
stage

Our tickets were sold and bought
For the average price of a goddamn
Tragedy. But no applause fills the silence, nothing fills but the thought
That be my silent prayer delivered, maybe God'd be able
To pay His debt for the last eighteen years of non-existence

Don't feed on your brains and don't feed on your heart.

I've heard
Sometimes you'll stop eating
In order to stay alive.

I wish you'd understand how
Awfully sad. Awfully sad.
That you'll stop eating
And instead feed on your soul
And feed on your guts
And feed on your pride
Don't feed on your brains. Don't feed on your heart.

You'll need them.

Poor Miss Vane fell on
Stage. Get up, Ophelia. Get up for Christ's sake.
Dorian is not and was never
A part of the play.

You were Sybil by chance and
Now you are Sybil by
Choice.

You payed the price for
A goddamn tragedy and
So did I.

But we can get
Away with that
If we let those
Who killed themselves

Rest