the end of sin is a sickening sock to the gut
a dark place that suddenly became darker
the way to the light at the end of the tunnel
is spelunking without a headlamp and brushing
up against the stalactites you were never
supposed to touch.
in this quiet cave i feel the seasons pass
the times i vowed to crawl forward dance like marionettes
suspended by my heart strings, one painful hop at a time,
the escape artist deluding herself with thoughts of siddartha
from the palace to the mountain, from sin to sanyasi
the darkness has weathered me
i wish to renounce
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