A blemish across the mark of my skin —
screamed into a corner, I’ve screened my
eyes. My chest is like a TV screen, the flashes
of a dream —the world waits for me to
tell a vision.
If I write, I could write, so good and well —
my finger type: printing stories on these pages,
A dogs-ear bent down to listen, to serve the law
as it runs. how long the mile? A canine chasing
commands.
A man afraid of the light, finding comfort
in a shadow. shadowing the past, living
best when hidden in the shade of regrets.
our mistakes are perfect at throwing shade.
Shall I live the blemish of a dream —folded
onto itself, my best days creased like dog-ears,
marking important chapters of my life.
But a man so afraid of the light forgets there
are two kinds: the one that reveals his darkness,
and the one he’ll face at the end of his life.
Still — we must step out from the shadows
of our mistakes. Eventually, you find a time
to shine.
