Sociopath
Why ?
the Good book he said.
Pastor
And you ?
Marvel he said.

It took me seven years
to realise
the words in my mind
were too deep for
my mouth to dig up
I thought it was easier
to open my skin
and let the truth
pour down my arms

It took me seven years
to realise
nobody should be allowed
to touch parts
of your home
or hold pieces  
of your heart
that you don't yet understand

It took me seven years
to realise
I will wear these scars
forever
I'll carry them
through every smile
every kiss
every concerned gaze
I'll carry them
to my grave

It took me seven years
to realise
the pain carved
into the walls
of my castle
etchings of
attempting to disappear
are not a story of weakness
but a tale of
how I survived

Why must one take all the blame?
When everyone did just the same
Time would erase their traces
And only one suffers the disgraces
His voice fades, forgotten in shame
He signs, unveiling his new name
Thus they spit merciless phrases
All I see is people with two faces

His colloquy, vintage, rich and bold
Unveiling nuances, young and old
Subtleties dance, like fireflies at night
Whispered innuendos, a gentle, sweet delight

His flavor, a lingering caress
Savoring bliss, in each
tender address
In this sensory waltz, entwined
A delicate balance of taste and design

Where words become wine,
and wine becomes art
Relentless aftertaste, a deliberate
imprint on the heart

Poison flowing
Through one’s veins
Life has become
A crying shame.
This affliction
Caused by addiction
Stuck in morphine rain.
Once I was joyful
Now riddled in woe
Travelling life’s highway
With nowhere to go.