2nd Decade Retrospection

I remember my mint-condition soul,

the color of dinosaur skin

(I miss my foreskin).

Ever since sin tarnished my semigloss

complexion I've been

so sensitive.

And my sense of inner goodness

is loose.

If not for a few well-placed rainy days

and a hyper-extended guilt receptor,

I would have forgot my mother.

Lost on a cloud, lounging

nine lives from

holy or wholesome,

I intend to wash my hands of these moments

since I've been my name.