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. 


Where is this going

Slicing through the storm, we’re brought beyond, before

Rosy eyes and pale moon-white

Cheeks of porcelain dust. 
Stabbing colors sicken me

And tears march to my eyes, you see

As suddenly then as I wanted him gone

I felt love blossom just as strong.