pretend to act like the puppet by sneaking the strings

waiting in the shadows cutting the ligatures with brittle teeth

covered by the grass of lies staring at the truths

that tighten like free chains buried in the skin like clamps

like set sail anchors  that move tearing the flesh every time

that the gaze rises to see the hand of the one who orchestrates everything

pretend to be, allowing the footsteps to stomp along the line

from the insane world of desires

watching the thin thread break the thick bones

pretending to dance to the rhythm of bought love

with my hands tied in limiting freedom

of a heart sealed with shrewd stitches

that squeeze, hurt and corrupt

pretend