月

One month since I’ve last seen life.
Rivers of gold, and a mesmerizing gaze.
Her lips shining bright and coming close
Burning my forehead
A gentle flame of light and comfort.

It was good to know
She noticed I was missing.
Wrote me a letter in my blood,
Sending love and greetings;
Newborn laughter, and ancient kindness.

I got to meet the crimson envelope
It came and kicked
At my kitchen’s window.
The shadows, however, seized it
Before I could.

Despite everything
We can all agree
Dancing blindfolded
Wasn’t the wisest thing to do
Around the edge of a burning hole.

I cannot see him, but I can feel
His fingers around my ears
His sharp nails digging
Into my fragile paper skin
Merciless silence, as silent as I’ve always strived to be.

I can never get my torment in shape.
Not in lines, nor boxes of sound.
I have been pushed down
Deep enough to taste the earth and get
Shaped and molded by the roots within its heart.

Take me back to where it’s safe and lit.
Not having to breathe in rocks,
Nor get sent through words and thoughts
To this small hell of mind.
Miniature, spacious, hell of mine.

My bones are breaking
But all you can hear is music
So you keep squeezing
Although I’ve told you tens of times,
My ribcage Is not an accordion.

o – o – o – o – o