Marrow

It found me today,
In the shower, I heard my voice.
The date has been set,
If this and only this can be;
If not, generational patterns ensue.
Old bones never rest.
Imbibed and tangled far worse
Than a curse –
Rusted lid shut and tarnished,
An old jewelry box
That is the heirloom of a long sleep.
Short-term memory loss,
Joyless thoughts only stay.
Too far gone.

Those old demons keep calling me,
They speak in hushed tones and whispers
But they always keep calling me.
Taking on my face and voice
That nagging sensation.
Old bones.
Embedded and fused in thick pieces
And verse.
The bark of a thousand mad daydreams
Enclosed cold and dark –
That is the poison of sorrow.
Deep melancholy
No one is privy to its harm,
Until it is too late.

How did they find me?
I have been as good as anyone.
I tried.
Those two sad words haunt me.
Truly, thought this time
Not just a stunt.
The real thing this time –
Turn those bones into ash.
Burn and burn.
Beget the innocent crime
Of an inheritance –
The birthright of shame.

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