my veins are the cobwebs of my soul,
intertwining and winding around my thick bones;
i'm like scaffolding, tall, and rigid, and ready to come down.
thick ducktape binds my seams together.
my eyes are the keyholes to my soul, they stare out and wonder:
what happened to the bright blue skies and thick, green trees?

my fingernails have rusted, cracked and sharpened at the pain.
long years of clawing my way down a winding road have led
me here, sewn together by dreams once wished upon a star.
my ribs have caged my hope for so long, bared iron,
protecting my heart and all that's left of what once was.
i hold my breath, and i'm ready to come down.

sunken eyes like the grave of my mother,
dark, rough and duller than cake at a funeral. i hold my breath.
living is like drowning, the anchors of my dreams anchoring
me down into the void. i scream out. i kick out. i claw out.
i come down, shaking and aching and ready to break.
cobwebs cover me, dust coats my lungs in pain.

i'm ready to come down.