A Thorn of Justice

There's a thorn in my side,

catching, slicing, ripping

It drives itself into my skin

and I cannot remove it.

The thorn digs deeper into my soul,

bearing my secrets to the world.

I bleed onto the floor,

crying for some seclusion.

I struggle just to breathe,

thorn deflating my left lung.

True aim was for the heart,

and I feel the oxygen release.

My blood is sticky-sweet,

it bubbles over my naked flesh.

The thorn has pricked me again,

and I feel myself start to sleep.

The thorn, it is so small,

and I, I am so unwise.

The blood is my penance,

for a life I lived with lies.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Lies, Lies, All Fantastical Lies

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