she was a marionette of the echoes
of her past
corrupting her present.
She was fluctuating betwixt
the anguish of the antecedent and
invariable  sanctity.
She was apostle of the present
but
She worshipped her past

She is a paradox
dead under the wholesome demeanor of honesty, beauty, and creativity
I find her sometimes underneath my darkest fears crawling up my throat
to express a voice of her own
I lock her in a prison of my own muffled screams
when no one is looking, I feed her one more rumor and insecurity
she is insatiable and I have lost my balance
The broken key is lodged in my throat and I am drowning in space
She is the paradox, that is me

You were the forests
birds fled through your *******

you enclose oceans
the earth
the skies

i was just an acetic star
shards of light fled me as i burned
faded
as they disgraced my body

not even the scintillations could linger my soul


i was contained within you
i was only a wave in your vast ocean

i was only a splinter in the earth

only a scintilla in your vast skies

Now Im pushing up daisies in the same wind

Buried beneath the hurricanes
which i would once call gusts

tornadoes which i used to breathe in
now rise from me
now
as i lay dying