The edge of doubt is razor sharp and paper thin.
Much too keen on thicker skin.
It slices with ease and burns like hell-
A feeling… I know all too well.
Your kiss upon it…
won’t make it better.
It spreads like an infectious tetter.
It covers me….but uncovers you-
A superficial fucking flu.
Are you not sickened by the ease,
it takes to bring me to my knees?
Such perspectives are gifted down here, below.
When you are faced with all you do not know.
But the truest gift of all, you’ll see—
Besides passive mediocrity,
Is that I flourish, nourished by the pain.
put upon me, but that you’ll sustain.
For that’s the way it’s always been…
When Karma loads her gun again,
And pulls that trigger right on doubt.
Exposes you,
Inside out.
How romantic.
Now kiss me, and make it better.