BOILED, ALIVE

let me rectify my

pleading dreams and

false-faced tapestry

I put up a front of distance

to this disgrace

the idea of him leaving

and I dream of peace

of ease and not being afraid

I’ve tried and bided my time

just to turn around and lie

to make them comfortable

with the fact of my

boiled insides

and ruptured soul

rapturous and delightful

and it will never be

that words cross my lips and give

them ease and free

them from the responsibility

of my unease

break my back upon the wrack of

this tenacious disease

born of pain and blossoming

with every tragedy

that strikes with the toll of this

tick tock crease

lines on my face a relief

of the brain beneath

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