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You were Sacrificed on the Altar of Innocence.

Does the inkling stain
of an untattooed hole
and another teethless grin
explain the sinking shame
of a sunken soul?
Needled punctured spirit
of unholy porous stories
get underneath the skin
creepy crawling minutes
a minor’s corpus quarried.
Evanesced trauma and potential
left odd outlined fingerprints
like belief absolving sin
by the purported reverential
Godly eyed/bedeviled glints.

I was Sacrificed on the Altar of Innocence.

Still misshapen flat screeching; grief.
Childer’s; forsaken crescendoed deliverance.
Open-mouthed caves; youth’s open graves.
Yearn to be filled; in muddy melodied relief.
The undertaker only bends; to dissonance.

We are all Sacrificed on the Altar of Innocence.

© poormansdreams

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