Full Disclosure


And now: "Thoughts on Afterbirth."
I--did--it.
Am I:
Master of the tormented seas,
Ruler of the space between you and I,
Keeper of the scarlet hand of incessant innocence,
Beyond reproach, regard, and remorse?

I--am--none.

Trapped.
Trapped by the amber flowing
Within the memories of shame.
Of back seats and bedrooms boarded up.
These houses were built in the cerebral fluid.
Abandoned they were, but never vacant.
Seasoned for the time to come.
I would bend my body
Over the boards of pain and pleasure.
To set foot in the garden,
If only for a moment.

I need--no, I desire--no, I revile--no, I despise--no, I love.

Shame.

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