Loose Trance

Observing scratches atop a writers’ desk Pages torn and faded into excess A horrendous call of pain and plea A desperate attempt to silence need Empty scrolls of desolate fiction Convert blank canvases to remorse and affliction Sitting, staring at my voluptuous muse Pondering the coverage of the ubiquitous news I reside loosely in a trance, but translucent to you Eyes glazed in after-life, blood filing into uncomfortable shoes The reality sets in on what is proceeding No reversal nor stopping the floorboards from seeping Falling through the gaps of the basements’ ceiling Staining the memories, left for revealing Lifting your body through the threshold of home The finalized result of that first cast stone Begging for forgiveness, a treacherous toll Kill or be killed, by my torturous soul