ding
light shreds you,
rending you apart
burning you to ashes
until just your dingy, second-hand
soul is left.
that soul is your candor,
it is what people spit on,
it is the thing they want to ****
it is thing you try to ****
filled with grief each time
you are stuck deciding whether
to dust it off, smile and say
"there's a good chap,
lets put another mark on the wall
and have a drink."
or crush it under foot and
forget you ever had it.
it is your love
your solace
you desire
the dreams you have of love
your soul is that scream as you
awaken from a happy dream
cut down by reality.