Igneous freckle

12404317_451037095103833_714478123_nThere’s a freckle of stardust
tickling your being;
A sample of the universe
simply existing.

You’ve been restless and unkind
whenever its light fell in your eyes.
For your own sake, in your own time,
you’ve feigned a blink, shy of blind.

And that freckle of stardust
echoes through your mind.
It claims that all your sins
and worries have passed their time.

You find apathy to be an arrow,
which the freckle insists on launching
upon your target, your sorrow,
but the universe is much more taunting.

There’s no angelic glory
in this struggle of identity.
There’s no seraph auditory
compared to the deafening cha-ching.

There’s no ocean wide enough
to compare to this monstrosity.
There’s no problem tall enough
to get you out of bed.

We could pick at that freckle instead.

Scratch,
as we toss and turn.

Scabs
which will never return.

Burning
is quite the discern.

And, oh boy do we burn!

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