for this is a song of constant remorse for me - error, sin and guilt combined.
learning, how much time I allot, to being lost but never knowing, if being found is sweet - or if sweet is even what matters at this point.
needless to say, I am the product of many sins, so my wrongs echo further than my back, neck and eyes can feel or see - yet this guilt is contemporary and has deep affection for me.
needless, to say, I am the child of one thousand - two hundred and twenty six wombs, maybe.
am, I moving through strength of a headless sacrifice, or leaning on the will of a chaotic sinner’s last plea.