Kept

I pour from my lips

I spit and I bite

The red stained glass shimmers in rays of sunlight
I curl my eyelids and iron my gaze

I rip off the fences in hopes that they’ll stay
I wear each worn battle on fire-lined skin. 

My hostages called,

 and they won’t let me in. 

Building!

How long have now I slept 

While worry-heart within me wept
And rattled the bars of its room
And clashed like a cymbal entombed

What bitter potion silvered my eyes
To such cataracts and cobwebs
They sugar-coated the ledge, they bled into my pupils and 

I

Saw

Red

My vision now strikes back, 
each poem written reacts
With the phrases dilating my gaze. 
My worries will all keep away.