Shades of the siloutes I’ve made
To conveniently place impulsive desire in
Have become some sort of guiding light.
Like the sun rays raising over
My mistakes that bring life to what the night birthed,
It’s always okay if it’s you first,
Digging up skeletons to take rides in a new hearse,
And yes it hurts.
Each incision indented instinctively with precision.
One desired action can burn a thousand good decisions;
Never to mention milage from my last guilt trip
Tripping over old excuses used to excuse myself for “human nature”.
The natural taste of the sugar on the tongue
Enough to make one numb,
Numb enough to partake in everything, yet feel nothing.
Ashamed, I’ve been biting my pen
Just trying to avoid ridicule reflected from another angle,
Hanging angles around my neck
Praying hard for enough will power to see these angels.