Blind

Besides seeing you at night, I devour all pleasures. Sinking into the skin I relive my flaws all over again. Painted faces and fecal matter I pray for forgiveness and all that matters. A prism or a thought, more often than not. I've decided to cut cut away at open scars. Cut away from what we thought we are. Blind to what is and isn't, forgiven from things that's present.