Otiose

forbidden,
my pain,
allowed only in my soul...
in my heart
to tread upon it
would be tantamount
to murder
why should i care..
why keep trying...
weary tracks
in the sands of life
exposed,
my vulnerability
as if a beacon shone brightly
on this hurt...
only to mock it..
as though it were wrong.
as though i am dirty.
dancing in the rain
shining with mud
on my tear streaked face
forbidden,
my pain.

October, 2003