Timothy J. Burgess
Your lettered confession the incantation that traps me in psychosis, keeps
In the stoic still, I'm churning, thinking. Awareness engulfs me in embrace,
Blinking its battered eyes under the bruised and brooding night sky
'You'll be left alone to die.'
Furious honesty floats from your lackluster lips, another promise missed.
Another claim made by a malicious misfit, in the midst of all this
We watch with our eyes rolled back in high and holy fits.