Clawed fingers digging
At the epicenter of my skin
Searching seeking ripping
The lies walled up within
If anyone notices
They look away
Cause I play my part and I play it well and then exit the stage
The red compels
Not to show, not to tell
Dripping down in blooms of pain
The white dust of death
Challenged only by
Trickling lines of red
Hiss and smear alight
Symphony of shame and sorrow
Dance as dice are thrown
Pray in tandem that tomorrow
The
nerves won’t be regrown
Mosaic in the desert
Itching for the thirst
Sensibility reigns inert
Compulsion is your
curse