Mar 2017
Woke from reverie
Cinders gathering at my feet
Nothing remains
Misaligned
Rearranged fragments of grace
He is there, still
Dwelling
In the fissures of memory
Bleeding feigned devotion
I am not there
A ghost town
Where my heart used to be
Crashing melody
Freezing mercury, no more
Violet air in my lungs
These bones of what I used to believe in
I would have ripped through God
To be with him.
Cinders gathering at my feet
Nothing remains
Misaligned
Rearranged fragments of grace
He is there, still
Dwelling
In the fissures of memory
Bleeding feigned devotion
I am not there
A ghost town
Where my heart used to be
Crashing melody
Freezing mercury, no more
Violet air in my lungs
These bones of what I used to believe in
I would have ripped through God
To be with him.
I have not written in a long time. I have been going through a period of transition, tonight at 2am my finger tips longed to write. I am happy to be back.
