Intrinsic distinction
Public justification of
Dissolved disillusions-
Delusional dysfunction.
Call it protocol, call it
Fuckitol, call it
Medication of salvation.
Those desperate endeavors.
Said with no regret, and
Spoken in staggered motion, with
Softly strong bold notions,
No hold could keep me
No pill to sleep me,
Sweetly, still and bitter ill
Is rippling the shadows
Of hollow fill.
And fed me rotting gut tubes
Glued to doom, the dreaded shade
Of shame’s false face
And traded grace for
Fate in pairs, no snare could state
How simply slaughtered was this day
So long ago.
Splintered glass ripped shards to blow
Open stitches sinking under skin
And again, and again
It went like this.
Again, and again,
It came to this.
Again, again,
It ends like this.