Instruments of Guilt

I never thought to write again
After self-doubt
A loathing for my own words
It infected me

Knife wounds
Left me scarred
Negativity to my craft
Left me adrift
On a sea of questions

Endless pain
That isn't real
A Mystery unsolved
Written in blood
Words are murderous
Poetic Justification

Then the bleeding stopped
By a true passion for creative sequence
Of thoughts which lead to poetry

I healed
I became strong
I found a new instrument to express my guilt

I no longer feel the need to justify my work
Nor does the love of flesh
Portray the enormity of the ink
That weeps upon my page

Nor give sufficient life
To the words that cling to me
Like orphaned children
In search of family

Knife wounds
Left me Scarred
Negativity to my craft
Left me adrift
On a sea of questions

Endless pain
That isn't real
A Mystery unsolved
Written in blood
Words are murderous
Poetic Justification

Such pain of mind
Amplifies an unjust justification
That allows shadows to linger on my mind
Which allows the trickle of tears
To slowly wet my cheeks

A blue Blair
Dead still
Adds to the temporal ruins
That violate my freedoms