Accessing

My heart is a catacomb,
my soul is a bottomless lake,
a black mirror for the moon,
but the golden lotus open for
those who seek.

My eye is a needle,
his state of being is a string;
I pull him through and
close myself up so
I am not bleak.

“There was never a wound,”
that’s at least what I tell
the child within the tomb,
and I carry on with
a morbid joke.

It’s the laughter behind
a cigarette, the death
my sister lit for me,
and I release it in a
cloud of smoke.

This is my wall,
this is the screen door,
this is the shadow in the
corner, my box where
insufferable relics rest.

My anchor, my ship,
I am both submerged and
at full sail, trailing the mighty
Poseidon of my emotions
and I’m doing my best.

But there is an uncertainty,
still as a statue, violent,
like phantom arms pushing
back trees and nails,
I can be my own storm.

And yet, the sun which
warms the windowsill can
define my Summer side,
the blonde smile, the baby
held in cradle form.

It’s the words men read
the next morning, a place
where I’m vulnerable
like an open book
written in braille.

Their fingertips touch
my milky skin, they
are stuck and left with
my spirit, never the heart,
for I’m not that frail.

It’s encased in a crystal,
it’s made of stained-glass,
and at it’s core is the
point of it all, the sapphire
flame ignite.

Chemicals erupt at
the vision of natural beauty,
mountain peaks, egg-
blue skies, cauliflower
heads in sight.

Expanding in my
emerald glazers, the
evidence of Ireland left
from many past lives ago;
It runs faster than

Light, creating shadows,
the burned silhouette
on the sidewalk,
the follower, haunting,
a reminder that I can.

Escape the trench,
pull myself from its pressure
and breathe; for the
room can never
steal my oxygen.

Only time can take it
away, that black hole
with an inevitable
pull; but death isn’t
a consequence.

To some, maybe,
the wasted, the wretched,
those who trail the
reaper’s spine with
eager fingers.

However, my goal
is to leave immortality,
a peace of mind, a
calm overcast that
effortlessly lingers.

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