Dingy stains across my soul like the hands that touched
my young body, mistaken for warmth on a very cold night
but only tickled my so-called confidence and I was teased
by their ease to please.
The cold, wear it like the frozen icicles around my heart.
Pray that it goes through and numbs my skin, dare I feel
any real emotion within. Dare my teardrops to fall or to
freeze up on my face because in that case I would wear
them as earrings for the evening.
I remember the rain, it could be so easily mistaken for tears
as it beat up on my face like tightly clenched fists battering
my disgrace, rolling down my cheekbones, drenching my gear,
fueling my anger, ruining my fears.....
Dingy stains across my soul like the night that dressed me in
shadows, with rough night white from head to toe, such a
horrible sight, such a worthless hoe. Dingy stains across
my soul chase my memories, snatch my sanity, erase all
decency and still I am wrestling to stand tall and with the
question or suggestion of it all.
Dingy stains across my soul has me surrendering to rivers of
madness that bring yesterdays luggage with all of it's sadness
but I thought I tossed that luggage as far as I could toss it
but somehow it always seems to make it's way back. Maybe the
waves that keep bringing it back is the laughter in my nightmares.
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