I had not the courage to write
My blood lacked the stillness
My pen ached to bleed
Words from this mildewed heart
I could not gather my bones
Nor my flesh
Disturbed by the noise in this labyrinth
I have felt like a burst natural disaster
All my viscous remains
Draining away to some forgotten wasteland
Where sorrow breeds
My emotions have been gentle but piercing

It's these roads devoid of landmarks
It's the thorns beneath my feet
The concrete boots strapped onto my ankles
It's the fog and my quivering hands
The want in my veins, how it roars
How on the best of nights
I cannot my life
And ever so often
The murk seeps from my fingernails
All these fragments of grace strewn
Like discarded morality

I have been too distracted in my feeble attempts
To grasp at the pale
My bones gravitate towards the irretrievables
Always
I keep seeing the colour of pearl
Blinding me
Binding me with