Tattoo--poem

I'll never forget.
I wrote this a while ago, but it came to mind recently.

Tattoo

I was there,
It happened,
and I couldn’t wait to leave.
My mind’s departure marked
too-early-in-the-morning
for a smooth escape.

Nonetheless,
at ten-after-a-decent-hour,
my feet guided me home,
unaware
of the shadow
lingering
on my tired
flesh.

The mind has a way
of waging wars
against the body,
numbing reason,
reaction,
giving cause
to sickly sensations.

Guilt’s a man-made thing,
yet woman-made was mine.
for Fault cannot be extracted
from where Guilt sank its
venomous teeth.

Reality’s an anvil
that crashes down
on my Coyote-dumb
head,
so comical is the sight
but the result
is something
grotesque-
Gruesome aftermath
of the weight of one’s deeds,
splattering composure
on the canvas of my past,
mixed with the bite-marks
spawned
from Guilt’s poisonous
lust,
bears the cancerous
frost,
invading the flesh.

Frost can burn,
with each brewing regret
rushed to the forefront
of my private
vision,
leaving scars
like a book-
A document of what was,
what is,
what could be
if the venom is allowed
to remain.

I can’t see the sun,
or the moon’s
lustrous glow,
only the scenes
like a movie,
inscribed on
my skin.

Moment after
agonizing moment,
the what if’s cackle at me,
(if I had only left before
the scenes began).

The scar was
reminder enough,
but became prescription
when denial
froze my senses-
Except for
touch.

Fool me once,
and you carry Fault’s Torch.

Fool me twice,
and my Guilt
transforms from lesions
and burns
of your cruelty,
to a permanent
Tattoo,
reminding me of what
I should have done,
reminding me of you.

[Y]our
sins slice through
reality’s grasp,
and shackle my wrists
behind my back,
so I can’t siphon
the poison
you forced me to allow,
embracing guilt,
embracing the pain,
for the physical
woes are nil
compared to the Tattoo’s
condemning reign.