Two years since I've been here,
and I'm still pacing, and asking
the cotton candy skies why you left.

I'm not one for letting things (or people) go
until I've purged the questions from my soul,
and this is me trying my best.


Copyright © 2021 by S. Y. Kalindara. All rights reserved.

The proximal end of my soul is no longer safe
Decay has dilapidated the space
The raveled fragments fester
Leaves wilting with vinegar burns
Where I have tried to **** the infestation
And found I was only killing myself.

I can remember when my mind was softer, but not safer,
Hiding in the hallway to the den
Watching the scene of the desperate father
pulling his dead son from burned rubble
My child mind imagining
Blooms of orange around my bedposts,
tendrils of cinder and smoke,
Placing my hand against the back of the door
To feel the phantom heat.

And now I hold the matches to my own bed
The quiet comforter can only stifle them for a moment
There is not enough weight to press
These dreams out of myself
Maybe I still crave heat because it is the pain that is also comfort
It is the fear and the foment, the ailment and the aid
It is my body asking for enough feeling
To know it is alive and safe
While my mind is screaming fire
in a crowded
theatre.

I’m lost
But my foundation
Is built with a sound system
I’m lost
But my shed is your salvation
The equipment to my home
Stores fixations of healing horns
I shed some light
I’m just trying to brighten your day up
I shred some light
I’m just trying to share the day with you
I should show love right
But my soul don’t feel too right
Break me down
Just to know
How to break me down
Underground light is still found
I’m lost
But my shed still sounds

why would you break my heart into a million of pieces? Wasn't you the one who promised me that you would never leave my side? Now I'm left alone and the sharp pieces of my broken heart are starting to damage my innocent soul. My soul is bleeding. Can't handle it no longer. Will I die from loss of blood? Am I my own savior now?

Winter, one night, came to visit me
It sat in the chair opposite me
In a dark room it blew a chill over me
Ripped the cover right off me
Naked and hunched, it mocked me
Then fell in love with summer and left me

So many examples of charm you'll find,
So many questions in my youthful mind.
If faces were the essence of the soul,
Then pretty ones would always have been kind.