Caustic

a hand
runs
across the
base
of my neck...
foul
thoughts swell in the
dark
crevices of a tainted
reality...
was it i?
who brought down the
mountains...
i, like a
fool
in a sea of
undying
regrets and
insurpassable
memories of a time that
was
and no longer
is?
tie me
to the axis of a
flawed
world in which i have
no memory of
right
and wrong;
no recollection of
good
and evil,
and where
inhibitions
are the playthings of a
long-lost
past...
tie me...
to the spokes
of your
ever-changing
what was...