Done up in smoke.
Sticky, sweet, smooth.
A waxy coating for the soul. 
Bask in the frequency that grants freedom.
For the moment.
It's an odd space to be in.
Learning of freedom.
Watching the faces and hearts of experiences past. 
A time line, collapsed. 
Torched.

I was scoped up.
Cradled in the palm of it. 
Wrapped in warming isolation.
Safe in a cozy cover of fear. 
Well today I hung up my housecoat for a moment.
And sought sunlight.
It was just as warm.
Jolting.
My housecoat hung upon a nail awaiting my return. 
I did as such. 
For a time.
Time passed as it's ought to. 
I retired my housecoat once more.
But to be worn again. 
This is a new dance to me.
An evolution upon a well worn frock. 
New golden satin with lace trim.
Worn proudly.
Hung proudly.
For both be
an opportunity of love.

Bite down fast and hard.
To keep the words down. 
To keep the lid on tight.
To smother the flame.
To tame the dragon. 
Bite down on that ****. 
Don't you dare allow it passage.
For the world is too fragile for fury.
And truth.
And natural consequences. 
**** that!
(but a tiny "**** that" to start off with)
A single tendril of smoke escapes.
I don't care if you can't see me anymore.
I can still see you. 
I won't blame you.
For I am no victim.
And neither are you.
So **** this!

Cheers!
To a step.
To fear upturned. 
To flight. 
To the settling calm.
To the sea forever raging. 
To the ache that burns.
To the remedy in the mirror. 
To the glass I'll never fill again.
To scraping the bowl clean. 
To this pounding haze.
To the dissipating fog. 
To open spaces.
To water straight from the ground.
To this rising peace.
To the fire that has been lit of love.
To it all.
Cheers!

To the man buying dozens of yogurt cups. 
I have let you in.
These grounds are not secure. 
The floor has been breached. 
The fortress walls scaled. 
We've been boarded. 
But it's no assault.
I felt it coming
and lay out a red carpet. 
Sweeping dust away. 
For your feet shall fall upon no soil. 
I retreat into turmoil.
A message is whispered into every one of my cells. 
"Traitor," I would yell at the mirror.
But today I found a mechanism. 
A peculiar thing.
So I set the door
and vacuumed up the space. 
It all felt silent
and I expanded within it.
To the man buying dozens of yogurt cups.
Enjoy your packaged pus.
I'll be on my way.

Moving through like a freight train.
Light on the move. 
A cheetah with a six speed engine. 
Cutting static with a lightening bolt. 
A quickening heart. 
A laser beam to there.
There. 
I can put my finger on it.
Can breathe it in.
Can relish in it. 
But 
I 
know
I will never be there.
I can be here,
here
or here.
But there doesn't exist.
I exist too much sometimes.
And always more than there.
But always in here.

In that moment
there was a feeling. 
It burrowed in
and condensed into a tight ball of dust. 
Then it exploded. 
Spreading out. 
Reaching tentacles to far corners.
Wrapping roots. 
Breaking pavement. 
A chemical reaction of the volatile kind. 
A thorn coated call. 

She was shook. 
Mistook a sly smile for a grimace
and took to the cold.

Ice plated girl.
Overlooking from an ice plated terrace. 
Her vantage skews the scene.
She trembles 
and dreams in red. 

Silly girl.
Forgot of such things as shears.