Cerebrity of Thought

You cut me so deep
Like third degree burns
I don't even bleed
You have cauterised me
Skinned like a cat
Hung out to dry
But you'll be home soon
A tsunami, a typhoon
And I am washed ashore
On a deserted isle

Sunset days and guile
Hovering like fire-flies
Taunting the darkness
Time's up I guess
And tomorrow's over
Already down the drain
Gurgling softly
Into the murky past