Sometimes I like to brand
the thoughts
inconsistent and always divided
into my fragile
and gullible shell.

Let it burn memories
like a journal feeding empty pages
insatiable for attention
to be marked.
To be touched.

Feeling perfect in that moment
incinerating those feelings
I have reveling in my skull
and transferring the waste
to everlasting regret
and permanent judgment.

This is what I live for.
*Right?