I know of angels and devils, who whisper,
And the scales sway sporadically, far from steady.
And the debate begins in the pursuit of answers.

Guilt ridden and glaring at the ice above,
I could bury this feeling, hide myself.
I could slur my pleads and create a certain undisturbed order
Reflecting my past resentments.
Hands shake and I can barely see past the tunnel-
Oh, this day’s been long, but innocence suits me well.

Plunged beyond the distant warmth:
Instinct, intuition, my hopes, my needs,
All but buried chaos and plagued desires.
Vodka in your streams and sex drips from your windows,
In a world where fiction is your fact and no mouth will shape to “no”.
The day is far too short, but the truth is lighter than lies.

I know of angels and devils, who whisper.
The balance of the battle brings you back down to Earth.
Sure, you may tire of my voice, but I keep your lines in order.
Now, does it hurt as reality strikes you?
Does it hurt to know your answer?