Somedays my body feels numb
Like the world is on my shoulders
As I sit in my rundown car
Smoking my cigarette
Starving myself from the cold
That's outside my window
I feel a desperate breathe of life
Try to flow into my lungs

And I realize it's not just me
It's my angel with the burning wings
She shelters me from the ice
Just as she does my life
She protects me from myself

I slice through the foggy air
Just as I do to myself
I feel my life running dry
I'm cold; I don't feel alive anymore
Then it comes, that soft warm touch
Trying to revive me one last time

And I realize it's not just me
It's my angel with the burning wings
She shelters me from the ice
Just as she does my life
She protects me from myself

I bleed out into my crimson bath
The last drop of blood leaves my veins
And as my red sea starts to part
I feel an angel touch my heart
My soul leaves my body
And I become one with her

I realize it's not just me
It's my angel with the burning wings
She sheltered me from the ice
And tried to give me life
She'll protect me now from hell

I look down at my body
With new eyes I can see now the life it went through
It deserved to die
It was never really me
I was born to die
This is me
I am the angel with the burning wings

Mary, Mary
Quite contrary
Egressed from the East Indies
A lost child
Grief is a long hallway
With sketches of pain
Adorning the walls
Hope is a drawer
With a hidden key

Bottled-up
Mary Lennox
Jumps rope
Out in the cold
Hopscotching
And exploring
Follows the red robin
Enters the garden
Long forsaken
Befriending life within
Evoking life without
With the one exception
Of herself

Mary had a little plan
"Might I have a bit of earth?"
To plant
And to chant
To sow
And to grow
To return a loved one
To both father and son
To open the secret garden again
And feel the inner workings
Of her heart begin

Sweet coma canopy,
brain bath in solemn loops,
a gentle washing away
of handprints,

Makes the bed,
blanketed by dreams,
rest upon reimagined partitions,
instead of the jagged edge,

But there are holes
in the architecture,
pliable infrastructural tunnels
to navigate through,

Lucky termite splinters
the mind, this delicious library,
and feasts upon before all acquired
souvenirs settle into books,

It's then a young turtledove lifts
off toward October next,
searching for the dry twigs
with which to build closure.

When it feels
like my mind
is falling apart,
do I need
rest and rejuvenation
meditation and
philosophy
to consolidate
my emotions and thoughts
and achieve peace of mind
and clarity of thinking
so I can be more effective
at striving
for joy and happiness?

When striving
for joy and happiness
becomes fatigue with stress,
do I need
rest and rejuvenation?

archangels banish the devil
in the depths of your heaven
like a non-violent exorcism
the likes of which I haven't witnessed
sentimental plague covers our
binary consciousnesses
until the veil burns off
and the ashes feed the land
till it softens
wiping clean the mourning
desiccating grief
from the haunting
worshipped debris
embedded rootless
to the thick of the longing
to the excised fat
of past-time reveries
yet the ivory towers
still stand bared
amidst newborn flowers
sparing no sand
from the hourglass
for an epitaph
for only tomorrows
carry redemption
promising blossoming