My Burning Substance

Stop quick take notice,

I hide behind the notes.

That evoke a picture I’m

intoxicatingly cloaked.

I’ve lost judgement I’ve

little control of faculties.

This whisky moves swift

warning to the soft trees.

I’ll burn them down I am

reckless in this condition.

That takes me back I am

on an impulse led mission.

This liquor serves soften

sharp edges stabbing me.

I seek now a newness

ashes of softness bring.

I need hard treatment I

need a numbness in elixir

that buries my confusion

and helps me sleep quicker.

Here I think now I have an

apple on my head a fool.

See me as I a fall down I

some fodder for the cruel.

I need no body to remedy

this existential crisis born

from what I fed on in youth

led me to a crucifix to adorn.

What has my virtue led me

to believe to me is no lie I

am in no condition to relay

the apple of my creator’s eye.

So take me hard down now

to judge me now so complete.

I replete with sin now again;

don’t think me as if so sweet.

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