Sad Poetry: Original Sin

a distant corner beckons. the places we've been refusing to leave us. 

we trade ourselves in pieces. cannibals of circumstance. 

the road is crowded. full of lost strangers promising to know the way. 

we shift inside these decaying skins. casualties of a forgotten war. 

the world is frantic as we tap on the glass. 

we peer inside and see that it was never ours to have. 

we strangle the curves. and call ourselves strong. 

we taste the arsenic as we bite down on the apple. 

relieved by the honesty of its poison.