gossamer thin net
of her enticement she casts,
at willing captive.

my body is a hotel full of guests who do not pay their bill
room 1 houses a boy who wraps his hands around my throat as he asks about my father
whispers from next door ask him if he is really afraid to die
they seem to come from inside the foundations of the building
and his upstairs neighbours are always banging on the floor in the hopes that he will notice them
my walls want to cave in on themselves
and the dining room is always full of monsters
bathroom drains clogged with hair and ****, pipes moaning in fear
i am filling up and it is terrifying
a sick, sick man is squatting in the basement
all of my residents know, but nobody says anything
out of politeness or fear
until it is too late, until
he has breathed his infection into the air
then transferred into the lungs of my occupants
using me as a conduit

Myself. Myself.
Who else? Who else?
The universe is always with me.

I maybe alone with only philosophy and routine,
But I awake every morning never lonely.

I now;

Tuck myself to sleep.
Sing myself a lullaby.
Pour myself a glass to drink.
Bury myself in sheets at night.

I admit it took self-control and a floor for me to greet, but nowadays I look at my feet and it's the best sight to see!

The floor! The floor!
Never ever before!
Has the earth looked so whole and green and sewn in patchy.
Below us all, ten toes and two soles. Peace has been all about loving the ground beneath feet.

I use to;

Tear myself out of bed.
Find myself a few hours in.
Scare myself awake, shaking.
**** myself for being ******* annoying.

Save yourself from sloth and wealth, two women that took my bed.
I can't blame them now for bringing me down, when I invited them in.

Now I;

Lay myself down, happy.
Me, myself and a bed so big.
Pardon myself, for hating.
By myself, life isn't a sin.
Healed myself, with one breath in.
Forgave myself, exhaling.

"I. Love. Sloth and Wealth", I say to myself. I don't despise what should always have been in small quantities. With a will and a way the balance is made, and now we can be a family.

I once;

Burned myself, still texting.
Hurt myself waiting.
Unplugged myself for an evening.
Told myself I was failing.

Here I am!

Producing myself a new mantra.
Singing myself a new song.

If I find myself with blues and a heart bleeding from a sleeve, scabbing, dry and peeling.

I remind myself what love is about and I can feel the universe kiss me.