A Map Carved Across My Face – Wrapped In Words

Sinful eyes stare northward judging me and my path,

twisting what I set behind me in my past,

misconstruing my monopoly of best intentions into a sea of angry moments lost in the inner monologue of a broken child,

a paradox of unquestionable answers that are given in rhythmic fashion like a muted dog wearing a collar of electricity around its throat,

and as my best memories are auctioned off like a bashful bachelor who hides a deceptive blade next to his semi erect cock,

 the world worships the fake and the flamboyant,

whilst ignoring the desperate and pure who need the hand of hope instead of a fistful of hate,

where do we go when all that is left of us are ashes from a cabin lost in the woods of hate and imperfection…

2 Comments Add yours

    1. It almost suffered a misfire, but I think the delightfully dark undertones of what it wanted to be surfaced and pulled itself together.

      Liked by 1 person

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