OF ALL MY DISQUIETING THINGS:

Do you hear truth when your ears move, 

Away from a life done uncouth?

Would you move, hidden as you choose, 

To place your face where safety rues?

Or when your eyes let a splashing 

Blink, and link your thoughts with body’s

Brink. Do you see truth in what you 

do? Do you? Do you? Do you do?

Frozen lips-and frosty tongue, rend 

Lies that knot your blackened heart. Lend, 

To yourself, the whitest snow; Still,

The blackened heart grows ill with chill.

Your frozen tongue didn’t choose song; 

But gluttony suddenly longed,

For your poor score wasn’t enough. 

Fulfill, fully feel, what you taste. 

Fickle fingers find folly for

The sake of break, to toil no more;

Yet they head way away from your

Thoughts, which yearn to hurt so much more. 

Of all your disquieting things, 

I am who is everything.