As if thrown into the sea,
I drown in myself. Adrift,
Worn from lack of sleep again,
I berate and taunt my past.
Each faux pas, each arrogant
Act, repeated and rehashed
Until each cringe inducing
Detail is nailed to my skin.
Time does not layer armor
Tightly enough to protect
Against the internal thrusts,
But rather sharpens the blade
To more precisely dissect
Each vein flowing from my heart.
(December 14, 2017)
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