RMC

In a silhouette soft
you will find me there not;
I am rough and cough
up air that density forgot.

Figment of imagination
and an air that leaves behind
memories of fragmentation,
gone as quick as time. 

There I was as I am now,
the years have gone by quick.
I’ve weight off my back now
it happened but I’m still sick.

I’ve a whole part of a hole,
black as night’s pitch dark.
Loss of faculties control,
and my words miss the mark.

Eyes that over me travel,
I pick up the taste in my mouth
that grinds me like gravel
so I question what I’m about.

Notorious and in infamy
my name will go down
as one of misery mystery
and a man about town.

Take my body and pierce
holes that in whole make none.
Where my face is fierce
I step to recoil in the sun.

Yes to free me my mystery
would be so moving.
Yes but it behooves me
to take caution in soothing.