Moving less toward the past
than to the future.
God save my ghost.
Drilling lanes into my flesh
by turning the screws.
Tighten my plates.
Before I know it
come undone again,
eager for the dawn's
heavy noose.
Bowing as a point
to the morningstar,
witness, sufferer,
bane and boon.
Jan 15, 2019
Jan 15, 2019 at 4:10 AM UTC
Moving less toward the past
than to the future.
God save my ghost.
Drilling lanes into my flesh
by turning the screws.
Tighten my plates.
Before I know it
come undone again,
eager for the dawn's
heavy noose.
Bowing as a point
to the morningstar,
witness, sufferer,
bane and boon.
