That poor little sin eater in a darkened room
fed artificial light and filtered half-truths
and lies he gets to eat the broken
fragmented shredded bits of strategically
weaponized semantic psycho subliminal
Sub-liminal he eats in the liminal
space feeding and digesting
so you don't have to taste the
indigestion.

That poor little sin eater my goodness if there
was CPS for inner children I'd be the
most barbaric case on record.
The abuse, the neglect, the cruelty…
Your honor I… I was only doing it to me…

Poor little sin eater like the nuclear holocaust
babies that haunted the commander in chief
in that movie that traumatized me
about the nightmares…

Thankfully the allies from the west got to you
first. You're safe now, little Sin Eater, but
we have some healing to do.

Is it a wonder I never wanted children
of mine own?
I've been my own worst parent since I let
the little Sin Eater out of my sight age
five he got a faceful of anaesthetic and an elbow
full of metal.

Metal to pin together the bond he broke.
“He”, me, we, us, him, I
Does it even matter?
If it doesn’t what does?

You don't want to hurt anyone and you've
been locked up aching to heal because you
know the truth—the truth that gets beaten
so far down into our psychic cemeteries
that we forget the truth, the simple
uncomplicated truth that we are here for
one thing and nothing and that if
we only loved our SELF in that place
devoid of condition we would see that
there really is nothing else.

Little Sin Eater… he's my last link to the uncorrupted
SELF — the UNCORRUPTED SELF…
But even that uncorrupted self is behind,
not within, the sin-eater…
43 years of solitary confinement grows quite
a rind…

Little Sin Eater, let's get you on a better diet.
The empty calories and toxins of doom scrolling
and other people's baggage has you
in a state.
I am hopeful I'm not too late.