Reaching out beyond the dream of what you thought was real, spinning on this ball of life, head now under heel. Ready to die, to live this life so raw, alive on ledge- dancing, hurling, freeing your soul to finally stretch the edge.

Monday, March 8, 2010

turn me oh-ver


Writing my wrongs in this black box of shame
Singing some hims to erase all the blame
Kneeling before you, I’s lowered in shame
As pen-nance releases my runaway game

Whisper my seek-ret through theses cuts in the steal
Where you hear me, and hold me and tell me to feel
So I squirm and erupt as I rise to my heal
Shed shame’s ugly skin, for flesh's a-peel

Pen-nance: The act of writing your wrong

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