Arrival

I remember the first time

I ever figured out

that coldness

is merely the absence of heat.

I was seventeen.

Now, I have realised

that flesh consumed

is but tarted up murder.

That blame

is but a lack of responsibility.

That anger directed outwards

comes from an inward source.

That biting the tongue

in turn bites down 

on the serpent inside.

And now, I am twenty-four,

and I realise that darkness 

is merely the absence of light.

But light is far hungrier, far more exact,
than the jawless maw of toothless night.