perhaps a memoir?

In lieu of wagging finger, give voice to your disdain.

These words have haunted my tongue as long as I have taken shameful pride in its ownership.

Great schisms of shame have enveloped my life for many infinite seconds within my ever dwindling breathes; perhaps I should have the common sense to feel shame.

My heart has become the braggart of soulless fountains of self-induced mythology.

All of these have accompanied the lies of my wondrous truth, yet still…blankets fail to smother the flames.

Standing in darkness always calms me.

I can’t see the fingers shouting at me within the arms of shadow.


- by J.G. Smith (08/07/06)