Shed
Peeking into my soul
from Oblivion—
I didn’t mind the peeking so much
as the mask
Identity theft at its finest
Fooled me for a while
maybe because
I was desperate to be fooled
Ain’t it funny how poets
got that primal need
to cram as many roles as possible
into one lifetime
to see the show from each and every seat
in the theater
We are born restless and on fire
So now,
as you’re looking in the window,
dying to wear my skin—
wear away darling
It’s lying there just for you
And I’m long gone
Horror Sleaze Trash 