"Guilt": A Poem Book

Sherlock

I need a drag. My lungs want to be bless by those toxins blowing in the air.

The smoke grows and thin out freely. I only wish to trap it in my lungs.

My tears move freely down my face. It grows then thin out freely down. Why am I sad?

Why can't I grow and move freely? I want a future but with what tools?

The woman on the tiny stage sings and let the lyrics grow and thin out. Thin out like her career. As she harmonize with the instruments, I harmonize with her pain.

I'm in the dark. No light seem to shine on me, but the light doesn't matter. The red lights in the club mix with foreign jazz always seem to get me.

I can't stay here. I want to be free. I want to grow from this pain and reach the high c like the woman and yell in tone with her sacrifice.

Mix notes and white noise, I swear I'm feeling erogenous from it. My head tense with release from this pain. No matter the culprit of my pain I will be freed.

Sherlock will you solve my case?

I wonder if it's worth your time listening to me.