My father is watching you
in this smoke-filled room;
of the three doors —
body, soul, and spirit.

Smoke engulfs
these stung eyes;
you search for the key
to unlock your
body
speech
mind
from numbness,
but you collapse
hand outstretched;
empty.

Where is my mind?
Welcome to my
smoky unconscious

The mask is..
…Confined, within four walls;
hear my screams
as he falls–
face buried in the pavement.

Conceal the moonlight
to rotate–
reveal the dark shade that
encapsulates my screams
drown–
drown–
drowning in faceless bodies,
to find they all belong
to me.

I am malleable,
unpredictable, unknown
I am the silence before the rainbow
or the storm.

Or
I am simply
nothing.

His lips are infinite possibilities
infinite time
that slip through the gaps
of my fingers;
piling immaculately.
Cruelly.

I have lost
everything.