Dry blood covers my face.
It isnt a blanket of warmth,
but a sheet of winter.

I walk with eyes on my memories.

The same memories that birthed from dreams.

Savoring the milk that pours from the mother's breast.

Feeling her emotions tango towards insanity.

I have footsteps that singe the earth.

Burning the foundation of my present.

Visions of skulls with hollow eyes laughing at my bane.

Harness fangs that they know nothing of.

Claws that are facades.

Eyes that expose their well being.

I should never cry at my past.

Even when I have scarred,

I should only be glad that lessons were the wings on my back.

-CMCrain


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