So here I am, I’ve found that slice of time
When I said what I said; I freeze it dry
And step toward its body laced with crime
To analyze the what, how, when and why.
It looks quite innocent from where I am,
A figure cloaked in camphor-scented lies,
So I get closer till the fog of glamor
Lifts, revealing all my tongue devised.
Its face glows bright, a blinding flaring red,
Its hands are raised, upturned without a care,
I look for smile but find a smirk instead,
And cringe to see the maggots in its hair.
I let time roll to crush its nasty head
And plan apologies for what I said.
