are an unforgiving itch
they stir in stillness;
scratch the skin
unsettle what
I've settled in.
It's often when I'm vulnerable
that I explore
the fragments
that they lay
  before -
like evidence of my ill intents,
your honour, what I
  should've
   could've
    would've
meant, had I only done things different...
As I stagger through this baying crowd,
their voices swell fubarbaric loud,
until I reach the fire escape
and briefly pause -
why hesitate?
Outside,
the comfort of the night,
the solid floor,
the starry skies;
anonymity will protect
me from my own
(too human)
de-
fects.