owning up to a testament

foolish hope & jaded wonder
are tangling up
like a compromised intent.

all i can hear
is all loud & at once.
my focus is rent & undone.

there are these things that i have to say,
but imparting is some kind of art.
so often - it all knots up & collects
brand, newborn wounds.

it's a not-knowing;
it's the investment.
it's an attempt at spitting out a testament
i'm so frightened to own
when martyrs & scapegoats are so much alike.