weak, powerless, immobile
my deliverance just inches away from where I rest my weary head,
where I sort through my notions,
trying to piece them together as if to make any sense of them.
it's dissembled behind my bottle of lotion,
posed upon the window sill.
embraced within is temptation, seduction, enticement.
they say never judge a book by it's cover and now I perceive why.
it's so much deeper than the surface, the outter appearance.
this has consumed every aspect of me, every inch of my body,
every section of my mind.
everything i ever was,
all that i am,
and all that I ever will be
my destination rests within
this source of remission.