Imbrue

Imbrue



To whom do I belong?

I am marked, in this pit, and who is responsible
Who shall be held accountable
The pit, was I the one who dug it
Did I move the earth away and make a place
For myself to fall
Did you push me, or did I merely lean back
Into it

I am marked — with your bite; your stain; your ink; your honey.
In the darkness of the moon
I see nothing, all I feel
Is the mark
Though it be hidden in the shadow of
This pit
Where I find myself

I am marked and down here I will stay
Marked possession
Marked for the end
Marked for the pit
I dug it, empty until my fall and
Now, I am marked
I belong to you.

Whitewash

Matthew 7:20
Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them.




Tempered heartbeat
Wrong side of the road
Upon a narrow ledge
Favonius has since claimed me

All my bills on black
I don’t care if I lose
Russian roulette; run amok
No longer afraid

Will I last?
Hold me under and see
A play; con; hook.
A Kansas City Shuffle.

Mockery mask
I am the fool no more.
Lessons not easily learned
This is how I still breathe

Tonight.