I've been licking sandpaper,
-Again scraping away
The disease.
I let you carry,

There were only icicle covered
Cannibals; bearing hearts of lead.

My anchor to it is gone--

I think-
I think.

-I killed it for fear,
And now I'm sugarcoating-
Poisons, giving cysts.

To lesser parts of me.
Help me--

I would ask the husk of my heart.