WAITING TO SIP FROM THOSE 98 WOUNDS

It’s happening now three AM
writing with candle light
I set it on the bed
quiet and kind of dangerlike

Let not my head split tonight
  dear Kosmos,
I believe in Me
I am the child of myself

I the father by seeking my desert neglectful

Cool news,
  Im ready to love
   you
  Mercy aside,
  more mollycoddling moot,
  along this unapparent avenue,
Dear Populous,
   i do not care if you know my personal pain or not