Taboo testimony

Back to walls where fate awaits,

Switch blades between two hands

That switch dates.

The latter unknown,

Conscience prone

To sink beneath each breath

Equipped with something

Similar to lethal weapons

That reak of death.

Back, forth, and back.

Between doors of wisdom which I

Entered quiet and kept.

Loud sermons rang from

My lungs, filled with comfort after

Which prayers were recited

Answers were given,

Yet without a listen.

Nights on knees; repetitions to the most high.

Then tears flowed for the life granted.

Not of joy, but of regrets.

Memories that serenaded a

Peaceful landscape with reason to sleep.
But with both eyes open

To envision outlooks that were never fully developed.

Diving into inner feelings,

Feeding gray images to the wolves,

Sunday’s best dressed, post service

Produced the best camouflage.

Repentance reprinted, then laminated for display,

Marks in the mirror that yelled imperfection.

Thrown over cold shoulders as a cloak

In the middle of winter; invisible to outside, inside remains perfect.

Throwing shade at the world through tinted windows, I boast

Then shine my light through dim curtains.

Grace still being shown,

Confidence confiding to

Only one pen, a few lines.

The rest of my drive

Exists only in my mind.

I’ll stop pouring my heart out
Once the ink dries.

And by then I’ll search for more

Of it, feast for a few years

Not returning to self seeking.

Tipping on tight scales;

Tied behind my back by a clock with no hands.

Getting by with Sharp verses.

Singing a similar song while doing their dance.

And then I’ll tip toe into another matrix.
Someghing real.

Something of life.

Walking through the same doors I

Fled from.

Above my own mind.

I Reaped, sowed, now I plow

For fields of even outcomes.

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