three/

why, hello old friend,
we meet again
three a.m.
the witching hour
when magic is
most strong

the spell
self hate
immolates
and starts the firewalk
anew this
cantrip hour

i should burn --
i was made to burn
over and over
and over
for karma

this. this i've earned

carrying my
tools of war and shame
over the edge of
the river's falls
unforgiven until
i've earned my
absolution
until
a hand reaches out
and cuts my
shame away to
fall, crashing, to
the vale below

you laugh and
shake your heads
at this folly, mine
but if you could
see those
lifetimes lived
you'd cast stones
and spit
this wheel is mine
to bear

three a.m.
uncountable times
seduced by your
spell

© Michael Raven

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