24/30 Arose

When courage summoning feels like bled dry
and even evening’s cool kiss stings parasitic

when the static ominous of countdown
heartbeats lingers behind closed eyes

when hope is a dead language spoken
only by library ghosts and scratched vinyl

I multiply the space between broken teeth
by my empty, dive into my own natural disasters

and tape my glasses back together. No matter
how many times they swallow me whole I will

still know my own reflection in darkness. Still
smile through the gaps. Arose by any other name

is still ascended. Already lifted myself out of THEIR
nightmare. It’s ME they should be worried about.

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One Response to “24/30 Arose”

  1. Enjoyed this.
    See my words at
    gramswisewords.blogspot.com

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