Circular

Burning incites the riot/birth
Like a cheap bottle of liquor.
The eventual bathing in deviancy;
This laborious process
Of turning myself inside-out
To release the demons
Smashed between
My lungs and ribcage.
Had a dream I was shot and killed
In the back seat of a stranger’s car;
Your eyes trembling as I awoke
Both afraid and happy simultaneously.
What is becoming of me?
Caught inside cycles that place me
Somewhere between Dahmer and Christ.
Maybe Jesus was biting the lemon
As so many others have before.
The resurrection was just a delayed reaction.
Her whole life flashing before my eyes
Over and over and over again.

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