once in a while, I
feel like I am a
victim to watching,
eyes burning into
my back, leaving scars
there.
no one, even you,
would ever see, and
it is like the bad
sins
of time can not get
me out of here, get
me away from the
hungry
black vines of the tongue
that can dig into
those scars even far
into my soul.

(did I whip the wrong bull?)