furthering the fear and confusion

setting in like carved stone

I’m making amends for all the

years I spent toning down my

cracking inner voice is spelling

out the way I feel

I feel alone and every prospective

spiel about the way I am is


am I but an amalgamation

of all the faces I’ve taken on

a million relations all interconnected

am I but an affection of seeing tones

just one more red faced admission of

this tasty dollop of truth

where I have told everyone I know

but holding back on revealing this

blasted burnt and reeling sensation

where I am a smidge of me

and a whole hell of a lot of

everyone who looked at me

in my  youth

no longer covering up the

pitch of my voice and the squeals of joy

or when I am affected by the

feelings that I feel

and it’s a damned shame that I lept

into a conclusion when drunk as hell

that night when I was a little more than

a million masks upon a

little boy



2 thoughts on “MILLION MASKS

  1. Whoa! some crazy dude has killed Binks and is sitting in his loungeroom! I have his Splintered Souls poem, bugger, that’s not like art that you can make money out off.

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