There is an island,
In my dreams
Where I escape
Into pleasures, unforeseen
Where all my worries
Are whisked away, and somehow
I am perfection.
Bliss.
There is no iron curtain over my soul,
And I can dive deep into
Atrocities, of social manners
Where I was lacking.
Failure and stupidity,
That led to countless coves, and
Affairs that were unmentionable.
Boring, failed relationships
That had a time bomb
Of not that long
And somehow the driver
Chose me
To own humor
Over body modification
And tattoos
Left on the skin
As scars
And holes are measured
Into something less arching
Like back dimples, expressed
When goosebumps,
Shrivel my skin.
I’m left into nightmare again.
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