Holding my head in my hands for two years.
Fooled me so often, don’t know him in mirrors.
He’s crude and forgotten and fattened with fear.
Surely, I’m better than what I see here.
Is there a place where disgrace is best faced?
Chased family and friends in case they embrace
Me, erasing escaping in the first place just tames.
See what sins begin spilling willingly,
When filling with the chilling possibility,
that I’m admitting living miserably.
Killing more fitting than forgiving me.
akennific 