Seeds of doubt churn with streams of hurt
Leaving it's mark from brain to heart like ruts in plowed dirt
It all collects and pools, a bottomless oddity here
Who's the capture, who's the prisoner? That's never been clear
Up to the moment life boils over the razors edge
Ribbons of crimson spill quickly, careening off the ledge
You had to have known it's all hollow, must I follow?
Must I always question while you threaten the finality of every tomorrow?

©2024