Atonement

My shattered utopia
Can only be restored with
My self as burnt offering

Center

Everything changes

Except me. I sit,

And watch, am unmoved

May the pain and shame

Rain down on me so

You might be spared

Are others’ minds like mine? Do

They whir with fantasy, then

Screech in harsh accusation?

I wander this world in

Search of who I was, who I

Could have been, my missing piece.

We only see each

Other through frosted

Glass, shapes and colors

It’s not really gone,

These are just seeds for

the future, waiting

I sense that I will

Break through or break down

Perhaps both will be