Unattainable Clarity

Mercy, sincerity, calloused. Clarity. The song no one sings, unattainable, 14 mother Mary's and a flock of black sheep. Like a boil, festering ... a thought, memory ... Choked; cuts and scars. Reminding of why we are what we are, not attached to your world, your open pit. The air outside smells of stale fear and animal shit addicted to your velcro smiles and percocets. Your forever ends today, lost, nothing to say. As snow falls like rain, I'm searching for better ways to dull the pain. Relaxed, as THC settles into my brain. I'm writing again to settle, release and maintain.