Chalk Maple

Charcoal mesh can't mask bitterness
The scorpion's tail a vine
My cutting edge dulled almost flat
There's history in the broken pieces
That are quickly reattached
There's memories soaked in gasoline that I can't forget

Without inside this other body, I am dead
You can share my sins, but not the guilt
Shuddering muted, replaced with glee
And I can wear my demons on my fucking sleeve

The smell of fresh cut grass and the open night sky
Interrupted within canopy
A momentary lapse that I put away
The hiss of intent draws closed
Immediate from the inside out
The seal purrs closed splash muted crisp
Gouging the color to chalk, out of lives
Die with you