Barbarian.

I can’t wash the blood from my hands,

The basin is stained with red that expands,

The mirror reflects a perfect barbarian,

As I desperately scrub off layers of skin.

The stars in the sky oddly cease to shine,

I gather up all of the lies that are mine,

Sewn into my mouth one last time,

To be spewed at someone down the line.

My feet refuse to step anew,

And the streetlights cast a yellow hue,

My mind is burning a hole right through,

To ease the pressure I’ve turned into.

4 thoughts on “Barbarian.

  1. Recoverywise says:

    I am so very happy for your writing as you do, at this time, for these moments are pure absolution for high crimes, misdemeanors, and treasons against the self that could not have preemptively prepared for such filth and ugliness as the world has never seen.

    Liked by 1 person

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