i.
i yelled my name from the mountaintops
and let it echo deep down to the depths
and reverberate back through my past lives.
grotesque and corrupted,
i slide through reincarnation like a flip-book,
letting the pages run together
as i carry the same vices from generation to generation.
if we are doomed to repeat our mistakes,
how many must it take until we finally heal?
if we are doomed to learn nothing from history,
how many stories must we pass down,
mouth-to-mouth,
that show us that the gaping maw of crimes
eventually digests us all?

ii.
i want to live again,
in a cave, dipped in silver, i inhale the smoke of the earth and preach the future.
in the ocean, new colored scales reflecting off sunlight strewn waters.
in a forest, roots running strong through the good earth, fingers reaching up to immortal stars.
in a house, a repeat of yesterday and a repeat of tomorrow, always waking for the same reasons and escaping at night to the same places.

iii.
when the cycle closes,
she’ll come for me.
she’ll sing my sins,
as i cease to be.
take away my breath,
let my skin fade.
put my bones on the scale,
let my soul be weighed.