Misdemeanor

On a foggy day with soggy socks
holding a lackluster lantern
looking for peculiar patterns
of reasons and repercussions;

The days I couldn't reach the rainbows
I spill some oil on the floor
and then look for my sanity
that I had mortgaged in a drugstore;

I hold a knife to feel hungry,
and then cook a meal for the sham,
I only let my guard down,
when I feel like tasting some self-harm;

I pry for survival
and then preach a purpose
If you depend upon me for lessons
order a poison and make it double;

I try to read you with lacunar eyes
hoping to humanize myself
but then end up getting befuddled
whether to root for the resilience of an insect
stuck in a contrived cobweb
or the ingenuity of a spider
that couldn't outmaneuvre its character!

©proper_noun