Ill with sharp suspicion.
A conscience guiding my intuition,
tainted with a poison.
Flooding riverbanks, drowning innocents
setting black fire to the grass
scorching my slipping feet on coal-warm ash.
What have I done?
Thick veils of darkness cast in shadow.
No one will ever know;
but it was me.
A mask, ghost smile, lips pure white
blood stains on child hands
doused in poison to wash away
cold and angry;
spent and frayed.
And remain in poison
until so charred
that my fingerprints
have faded away.
So charred, they’ve burned black.
A knowing moon, a Cheshire moon
a white-tooth smirk spread wide.
He knows but silent on a useless tongue
and mocks me on a Harvest Moon.
Stained crimson with unspoken rue,
a travesty I have spent on you,
but unbetrayed by an accusing moon
whom weeps rain
in memories to you.
And I am sorry.
With shovel in grave, I fall into the earth,
gather myself and continue on as before.
Until eyes of the moon cannot see me,
have no bearing.
But I still feel guilty
as I fill this grave; condemned to
walk below the ground, beneath ash.
Beneath dust and damn, beneath contempt;
I bury you and this evidence.
And shall place no stone above this grave
that I and others may never remember.
Before you ask, no I didn’t kill anyone. And honestly, I haven’t done anything really bad in awhile. This is mostly just a release of guilty emotions I’ve felt for a long time.
I’m sorry I haven’t been updating lately. I’ve been too busy. I’m going to try to update a little more often, if I can manage it.