Lullabies eating me
alive
like I'd never heard them before.

Would I ask or would I say,
I grew up
in this self-deprecating way.

Privilege had its folly and I'd like to think
much of the fault I took
was not my own, but at best that's
a privilege
no man could truly own.

Catch me with my pants down,
catch me with my hands
******.

****** may be
the only thing
that takes the merit from embarrassment
the way I turn men to stone.

I hear lullabies like battery acid dripping
into the ground
and I'm cold-starting again.

I no longer care that its all that bad
to destroy
what I could otherwise create.