Loose Trance

Observing scratches atop a writers’ desk
Pages torn and faded into excess
A horrendous call of pain and plea
A desperate attempt to silence need
Empty scrolls of desolate fiction
Convert blank canvases to remorse and affliction
Sitting, staring at my voluptuous muse
Pondering the coverage of the ubiquitous news
I reside loosely in a trance, but translucent to you
Eyes glazed in after-life, blood filing into uncomfortable shoes
The reality sets in on what is proceeding
No reversal nor stopping the floorboards from seeping
Falling through the gaps of the basements’ ceiling
Staining the memories, left for revealing
Lifting your body through the threshold of home
The finalized result of that first cast stone
Begging for forgiveness, a treacherous toll
Kill or be killed, by my torturous soul