mouse step a way through the forest like

the sky isn’t glitter, pretend

it’s dark and no moon

light, none

so lost, get lost-er, so deep,

get deeper, too hurt,

it’s hurt-er

caught in the prickly vines, and

oh no, no one to rescue you, as if I’d let it,

let it happen, as if you weren’t precious,

my pretty little princess –

isn’t love possessive?