yet it burns still
in the hollowness of these days
scratching the surface of
what I could not comprehend before
burning bright
into the cornea of my obsession
it is a simple thing
so I have been told
as I walk across the fire
feeling the bleeding welts from within
as natural as breathing
yet I suffocate on these thoughts
it is as if I am two beings
one that lives for each subtle moment
one that hides and quakes from the light
I live with fear deep in my breast
and choke on the hopefulness that rises
like a gorging emotion sweeping
precariously close to some definable truth
the knowledge knocking back and forth
it consumes with a hunger that shames me
still I have been without for far too long
though I had not known I was devoid
so I scratch at the surface
digging deep
feeling the pain of imaginary ghosts
the echoing cries of humiliation beckoning
as if to lead me down that path again
but I am resolute
in the hollowness of these days
scratching the surface of
what I could not comprehend before
burning bright
into the cornea of my obsession
it is a simple thing
so I have been told
as I walk across the fire
feeling the bleeding welts from within
as natural as breathing
yet I suffocate on these thoughts
it is as if I am two beings
one that lives for each subtle moment
one that hides and quakes from the light
I live with fear deep in my breast
and choke on the hopefulness that rises
like a gorging emotion sweeping
precariously close to some definable truth
the knowledge knocking back and forth
it consumes with a hunger that shames me
still I have been without for far too long
though I had not known I was devoid
so I scratch at the surface
digging deep
feeling the pain of imaginary ghosts
the echoing cries of humiliation beckoning
as if to lead me down that path again
but I am resolute
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