I foster a monster
Of my own creating;
"Self-defeating" he slithers
As his skin festers into smiling,
Unrelenting and repeating;

So I slit my throat
With the cold knife of self-loathing,
Coating my skin
With a red dress
Of the life I've been wasting.

death is a silent guest
sitting round the table
waiting in turn

MUSIC IS MY SOULS BLOOD.

I can't erase the past, but I can change the future.I can't make the scars disappear, but I can make them fade.I will pave a new road of memoirs starting today.

Where did the shyness go?
              I remember
hiding under
              women's skirts
red
              faced
counting freckles staring
              as the universe unwound
gazing
              at the birth of stars
and the aura
              left.
now
              I stare down.