Onionskin

try to find the fill of
the oedipal void;
the exiting voice.
ever-present siren
gave you no choice,

and her song
was a cacophony;
his lack of youth
made him to be
a sun/HER son -
a lie to me.

Misery NEEDS
company
while incinerating
all beliefs.
dissolve it all,
ashes around
the broadcast selves
that can't be found.

the pedestal
of my reprieve
was never really
under me...
and yours was
disassembled
by ego and hypocracy.

now I see the light
shining through the onionskin
paper you had been
consumed so sadly by within.

with age it will crack and crumble;
with time you will grow wise,
or fall into the wake
you make
when taking,
fall into an abyss
that you dug with lies.

by Kitty Marie Lucas

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