I am a strange creature, an addict with an inconvenient malady

My guilt manifests like tar on my hands. Now before you accuse me, of saying guilt is black, let me explain

That it has no color, but since my skin is olive it manifests

As the opposites, eating everything that is me and making it not.......

Me....

If I even know who that fucking is anymore, but I can tell you what it's not.

It is not tarred and feathered,

Covered in sticky silt and ash.

I am a burn victim, with no burns,

Just soot covered skin,,,

But when you look at me, you see me,

Oh how convenient.

Back into the tar,

I dive.

Maybe I will blend in this time,

And I won't even be able to find me.