second chance

[ pic by ]

On muddy
bed I think
how to change myself
with hands of charcoal,
your face on my walls
with lungs of smoke
puffing the call.

Shadows creep up the roof
into pulsing veins,
the streams with moss
across my arms
follow spiderweb tongue
hanging from your branches,
and I watch,
I watch close
the fangs upon my skin
breaking rib cage free
to dust only
and soft
and nails
perfection across my eyes,
eyes drowned in powder
and suffocated by tears
of constant lingering
in the house of absurdity
where I was beheaded,
where I rescued my own.
I, and no one else.


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