Maniac

Lionskin-clad,

I'm a warrior in play.

Blood drips gold where solitary footsteps lay.

I looked to the left,

your scent on my tongue.

Four legs to two,

the rubber inside sticks like glue.

Motion of envy, 

the thieves take flight.

You're tied to a string;

I laugh in delight...

the senseless ecstasy of a maniacal thing.

Something happens when the format clings.

-Hannah Schoeneman