Make it two dimensional,
Artificial,
Superficial!
Drifting desperately into our inhumanity, oh my old self:
Ground upon which never truly do I tread.
Forget me my values.
And everything else besides,
Bringing me into that harm.
My desire in mania,
Turned so blissfully towards me,
Cast from high cliff for scorn of my soul’s ugly visage,
For good measure to trample this vermin underfoot.
My apologies!
My insecurities!
My feigned innocence!
Borne hollow, a hoard to hide my regrets.
©️ 2026 Cory Wilson Graham
All rights reserved
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