the heart is a optical allusion, a political eclipse.
love and scorn in lieu of guns and rapid fire.
wildflowers at seaside begging to breath saltwater into their fragile lungs.
my dead body lie awake on shore at wave break.
all that goes on around me are trinkets, of rustles from the restless sand.
to follow a lighthouse to shore is better said than treason.
butterflies strung up elastic bands with lips that beg to kiss the hallowed soul that dwells in shadows beyond the sea.
to clip their wings would hinder them from carrying my blood pumping, ***** loving, cliche hallmark card vessel back to the siren that tore my essence to shreds.
she nearly drove me mad so i abandoned my sanity in her trenches.
because in the darkest depths of that murky mess, a spec of light was shown.
delusions led by fluorescent aquamarine promises
and the tangled torture thus followed.
her tentacles had me under wraps, tethered to tectonic plates.
my aorta artery anchored to the floor.
my identity a submarine of cells submerged many leagues beneath the horizon.
her uncertainty loosens the shackles. my determination lifts my body to breach the lucid surface.
at wave break i am dead but also awake and my chest spreads open to soak in the rays that have broken the storm.