Hypocrite

Burning flesh,
and choking,
sore.
This is why
I can't be more.
This is why I turned my back.
Can't return now,
can't fill slack.
Steps pull forward,
weights launch where
all goes nil,
and emptiness flares.
Stuck in lands and
lost at sea,
where the hypocrite
finds faith in me.
Pulling forward,
stepping back.
Broke in two.
Can't fill the gap.
Poem sucks,
can't write no more.
Shredding self
instead of gore.
Nowhere left
to turn
or be.
Nothing left
for you
or me.