I feel the weight of it in my skin,

twisting and burning its way through me.

Poisoning my blood so that I might expel it -

let it from me the way a drunkard

releases his own poison.

The smell sour and permanent.

As it pours from my mouth,

black and thick and covered in hate,

I watch, in rapt agony.

My humours out of sync,

what would the good doctor think?

Horror and wonder from me in black invisible gusts.

How I wish I could open my mouth and set it all free.

Push it from my skin, my blood, my dreams.

Watch it careen down an icy slope,

powerless against that force that pushes it.

All blue and black and hopelessness suddenly expelled…

Forced out to roam and ride the screaming wind

But no.

It is stronger than the wind.

It roams only skin, only blood, only dreams.

It is a black stain.

Dirt always leaves its mark.

So let's not wear white.