The treatment of this
is a cold hard kiss,
a stinging slap in the face,
a blistering edge to trace.
Making no difficult decisions,
full of suppressing suspicions,
answers no longer there
even when stripped bare,
even though this weighs stones,
flabby, fatty flesh on bones.
The sun goes down
and smooth faces frown.
This whole existence
is not much more than a pittance,
crimes committed till the lights go out.
Then hidden under the covers there is nothing but doubt.