I.
Eclectic birth rage
Lashing at the sun
For speaking too loudly
In those moments
When i find my fingers scraping ice from my eyelids.
Feelings are like lapsing arrows ;
Follow through, with warm blankets and a cup of tea.
Ii.
How
I walk, sundry, towards a bridge in the distance;
It’s hidden by fog, barley perceptible traces of an outline -
Some english village in the snow.
Climbing mountains on all fours.
cobblestones . broken glass in the doors of charity shops;
I’m so gullible for stories where i live soley in the future.
It’s pathological; the relapse of tense,
Place yourself in the moment
Arden.
For the sake of your spirit.
III.
Apotheiosis is calling me ;
I can hear it talking in
Heaving sonorities.
Black bird dashed against the glass panes
Of my skull.
Crow lies battered on the pavement.
IV.
There is a rush of blood
From time to time, when i remember
The sudden outline
Of energy lived ecsatically;
All these, people - stuck in their tiny boxes,
Paying rent, content with survival mode
And quickly forgetting all the dreams they shared
With their younger selves
I used to
Dream
Of being a poet ; of being in love.
But now I buy food;
I pay rent,
I live to keep walls around me.
V.
I’m scared to break through the muted white
Of rented walls;
It makes me
Sick
To think i’m not chasing something better.
