Every single time that you feel haughty enough to brush the dust of me off your shoulder
trace particles of my existence remain on your hands.
I’m under your nails.
I’m growing bacterial armies inside you to remind you of who I am.
Keep lathering your fingers, Pontius,
clean the flesh til it falls off.
My stain will never go away no matter how many miles you move apart
you will always carry the blame
you were the one offering up your name and then you decided to take it away
love felt a little more like work than you liked, right?
I’m in your DNA and your hubris betrays.
Every single time you hunt for an answer for why you can’t ever seem to feel whole
Your emptying veins where I have coursed and punched through will eternally leak
Today you are dismissive, tomorrow, as par for the course, regret
Keep lathering your fingers, Pontius,
nothing you can do now but die…