Ah yes, the hunter.
Hunted by his own head and
His own stunt double doubled back instead.
Paranoia gets going.
Nice to know ya, I’m going.
Off the edge and then back again.
Right back again.
Back to my planet in this head.
And it ends.
Moving keeps going and
Movie scenes know me.
They’ve all seen it before.
The pretty little pills made, take.
The petty little smiles they fake.
Pitter patter for miles to make
Sure they know the way
Off the edge and then back today.
But they’ve seen it all before.
Flickered little peephole inside
Shows little blurs bitten by the people who hide.
Slow slurring blurs leave hurried people behind.
So he roams.
Stewing old looks and pages from books
He used to use for cooking.
There’s no cooking ’cause nothing’s dead.
Fear nearly uncooked above his head.
The hunted inside said,
‘You doubled back instead?‘