Jealousy
A Knot somewhere behind my eye,
however much I try to hide its burn,
it aches my heart,
though I wish it did not,
my head seems heavy with guilt,
at the feeling I am trying to surpress,
as if it was a bubbling geyser,
I have tried to plug,
with the weak thoughts I create,
for myself to control,
but fickle they are,
to the will of the meat,
that remains utmost master,
of the brain on its shoulders,
and meat is drawn to rot,
and so therefore am I.
The Salt of my Tears can only preserve the would for so long.