RMC

I feel like I
feel the world crush
the plush sly eyes
I need see to I must.

Mine have scars
my eyes and brow are torn.
The wind is cold the world far
has seen my feet worn.

I’ve soothed nightmares
in my head a thread keeps tight
the vessels to keep me clean fair
I am not but in me there is fight.

Sparks aflame I love beauty
duty is a mutiny that leaves dry
my heart that thirsts I’m me
I’ve searched I see and I cry.

The dark was a little scary
back to when I was still mature.
The stars are bright but don’t carry
hope for me never now I am sure.

Just bones and skin but I’ve kin
that have seen my eyes in my worst;
my beloved know my sick sin
but the despair no longer thirsts.