Sunday, March 22, 2009



Shedding reptilian skin
after moonlit mistakes,
should have bequeathed
a chance to cleanse
my sins from the surface-
Or bestow upon me
life anew.
I am abandoned, exposed
flesh breaking, whilst
rhythms from the night
sickeningly lull
my aching membrane into a trance-
when fantasy’s thoughts thrash at the core
gnawing away at sanity’s embrace
even when sanity has dissipated,
faded from the foreground
morality should reign: a consciousness
of what I used to deem
sensible, or the contrary.
In this moment, this fleeting specimen
of the universe’s glory, I am huddled
on the marble floor.
Crimson pools seep through the cracks,
replacing my crimes that should be buried
with the bones that grasp
remnants of ancestors and all the nostalgia
that six feet of decrepit earth can bear.
The bystander wonders in horrified awe,
why I repeatedly shudder,
why I practically retch,
because of my own misdeeds?
and why I am so confused,
as to the obvious reason behind my scars?
And why this layer of identity
falls with appalling ease
like the shavings of a butchered creature-
why tears are forming-
when I am the perpetrator-
the One still clutching
the blade

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