folded
our promises folded; the strings that held two together neatly wrapped around a coin; the corners of the pages of our favourite book unfolded, pressed out, closed; the words in our mouths finished before it had a chance to begin, to begin,
curse
i watched you, watch her tear through my chest and eat; you did nothing, you have been eaten the same; and you say, it’s the mother’s right; i don’t think so; i think it’s a curse the first she had placed on a weak heart–or that she couldn’t allow in the purity of a pearled…
mouth
can you read those droplets running down skin, dripping down moss, and hair, rivulets down the feet, and earth; you say there is not enough kisses; i say what do you mean? the air is filled with it; flowers spilling, fruits, beating wings, everything touches something; you are eating love just standing, the mouth is under…
emblem
you wear the emblem of the rejected, montage of reshaped pieces that reflected light; you threw yourself to the flames, to wear a shroud; the lights switch off around you, maybe, the sun has been too harsh on you as it has for me; i don’t blame you, i don’t blame you—forgive me,
said
i don’t remember what were the words, but i remember your lips, pursed between a half-smile, a kiss and a thought; how could you hold three strings between two? i don’t remember what i said, and i have said a lot over the years; the well hasn’t dried—but you wear a shroud,
hollow
i will give you the hammer and chisel myself, and beg you to keep chipping away; do not let stone remain unformed, even more, hollow it out, inside, outside, shelled; a moonshell in midnight wet sands, let me sing you like everything else; break me, break me,
gaze
the gaze pushes open these petals; the last layer hardened by years of not a true sun rising, you say, it’s true, and i wish it so that i am willing to be broken in, even though i have been promised to believe instead—and wait, i am sure eons have passed and not a single…
tainted
you were the beginning, and you, are the full stop, in between was the longest sentence of me, don’t ask, why the gates are closed; sweetness tainted the night’s air, i hadn’t known anything good can be cloying, yet this skin bleeds death like it is life,
filth
it’s born under the filth of every discarded skin, muck that clogs down your throat, limbs trapped under tar; submerged, ripped and pushed to rock; silence so complete, you are not sure you are all there; or really, is anything there at all,
strike
the blade’s turned inwards, point twisted through cavity; feel free to push further, repeatedly cut me out, do not undefine me; the bindings tighten; i have rearranged my dreams every night and have seen you in sharpness that made everything else, less real; petals fall, let them fall; strike those fisted whetstones into the shape…
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MindWraith 