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
My vision now strikes back,
each poem written reacts
With the phrases dilating my gaze.
My worries will all keep away.
What is it to
Dissuade the dark?
To slip the snapping teeth their mark
And feast on collarbones, the while
The pouring storming-men go wild.
I cannot speak for the cache of blood
Behind my throat and voice
I cannot breathe for the hissing flood
Of death within my flesh.
I am covered now in slate, and bitterness, and sin
I rip with ragged nails at all the ways I’m imprisoned
Ice chips, with frost, have covered all
The life I used to live.
Please set me free with fire; I
Where now I petrify.
When emotions strain against my flesh
And I feel them press against my chest
They seek release, held in by bone
And a heart that aches when it’s alone.
The feelings surge down my fingertips
They speak the thoughts mute from my lips
Words that dance in song and ink
Release the heart that dares to think.
The cold touch of my hands is sure
To ignite a flame of written word
Skin that’s cracked from scrubbing stains
Of pens that broke from all my pain.
The writing flows and soothes my fear
The beauty of sonorous words that breathe
And phrases become eternally dear
In their rhyme, entrenched in memory.