Becoming Me

Borrowed Time

(8-05-03)

I live on
Borrowed time,
Borrowed time.
Everything I thought was
Mine,
Simply an
Illusion.
So lucky
To be here
At all.
Everything that I hold dear,
It falls
In endless circles
Never reaching
The bottom of it all.
This madness
Cast into the future.
I cry for fruit.
They should not
Suffer
The sins of the
Father.
I hold this blame
Tightly to my chest.
I hold it as my own.
My children are
Faultless,
Spotless,
As clean as
A baby's breath.
As innocent as those
Who have not yet
Tasted flesh.
I cut myself again.
Reminds me
Who I am.
I pray my curse
Will die with me.
I hope my progeny
Will see
That they are they
And I am me.