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Dread is bloated at the belly and its giving you a stare down.
Feel the way the ribs move as it breathes out the fire of your wrongs.
Hissing in sparks of premonitions, of footsteps not travelled yet.
Let it sip at your counter, let it drop the medicine in your eyes.
Than rest your head at night on a pillow softer then the world we consume.
The one you pay in turned cheeks to feed the belly of entertainment.
Foresight the tangles of your shadow growing longer.
Dread is nesting in it.
Adds salt to taste
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