your image is slow to fade from mind
like a stoic candle lit to last
flickering edges meet hazy memories
a single tear to wipe clean all that bitterness and doubt
clogging the arteries I fear
drainage error
virus downloaded
this mental trap screams: my software corrupted
functioning eroded
wires are crossed
too many conflicting states and feelings over the truth i've lost
truth lies in the fires of my heart's compromise
and it's so much easier to burn my fingers that put out the flames which threaten to devour
than risk inhaling any more suffocating self disclosure
must quash that burning sensation and bury it deep within
under layers of contempt and twisted memories
contorted in their ugly deceit
drown those wisps of smoky desire and longing
in the barrels of reality check discovery you reap
keep it in line
subdue the divine
forge a happy face for the torturer's mastermind
swallow the flames I tell myself like I'd rather swallow the pain
than wear it outside of me like a slim fitting sleeve built to capture every flaw and edge
I'd rather let those flames engulf me
internal rotation
to turn me inside out until I have no choice but to be reborn to emerge from the ashes I mourn of my crumpled past selves
my crumbling disintegrating fragmented selves
all piled up into a corner I'd sought to forget
now to tame that fire and teach it to transform me
pitiful regeneration
teach me the ways of transfiguration
to swallow the flames
and maybe then I could swallow this pain
tame those flames into ritualistic engorgement to keep the contents of my derelict meal inside to bear the fullness of a flame growing larger from which i can't hide but still these edges of your presence flicker and taunt
frayed mental resolve
the damage is done
scorched to the bone, my heart is hung
upon the sleeve that you have now wrung
and indeed see fit this cobweb i've slung
of forlorn drudgery unsheathed
a cobweb of displaced feeling
conceived
a webbing of desperate belief
a web of stained tears
I continue to weave.

my heart in your hand had become ensnared
victimised by this trojan's land
masses evolving
my reality dissolving
as I try to make sense of the unfolding
droplets of memories abound in soft forms
sweet as a fresh nectar fruit torn
from high reaching limbs
the attainment of your salvation ever the more rewarding
when climbing atop assumptions and wading through the swamps of doubt and forewarning
the earth quakes and shakes
rattles it's inhibitions from deep within
spews forth a gully of raging inner turmoil
I surrender to thee
my sacrifice born to an innocent plea
as i fall into myself once more
your fingers have encased me in your possession
a cage of dainty jagged bones
closing around
this ever pulsating rhythmic vessel
I am
entombed
entwined
enveloped
fusing myself to the insides of rusted debris
the tides can try to wipe away everything
that is me
but still I cling
to the harmony of elements
to the cage of possibilities and bones
I cling to this doom forsaken land
I
now call
home.

there is this stench hanging over me
I can't ignore the smell for much longer
it looks like a shifting dark vibration
ever moving, quaking, reverberating
a collection of excitable flies gathering together to feast
on the entrails of my mind's failed operations
the buzzing gets louder still
almost unbearable to withstand now
it's starting to shoot through my conscience
I can feel the little insects conspiring and mutating as one
a battle lies ahead, waiting to unravel
dormant in the swaying green that surrounds
like a sweet illusion of peace
ready to strike and pounce upon the unassuming pockets
of hope and tranquillity which rest in nearby lagoons
the battle is soon to be underway
I can feel it
lurking on the fringes of my morale
as it begins to intoxicate me
the sour starchiness of tainted dreams
dissolved within ashen clouds
I think
as I allow myself to be consumed
I think
I am beginning to get drunk
on my own complicity.

the limbs of my
character self
are shaking
just about dying
to drop
their socially acceptable moulds
litter the ground
with old habits
and in their places
grow
luscious healthy new sprigs
of enlightened perspective
a resurgence of ideas
death of the old
and outdated roles
a chance for
revitalised spirit selves
to dance upon the graves
of the old norms gone sour
now is the season
she screams
step up mulch away the debris
of your momentous miscalculation
of power
reclaim the roots
that the greedy shifting world
seeks to devour