frayed... fringed... tasseled... holding case
adorned with brass buckles to clip tight and hold fast all the contents of I.... this nutcase
compartmentalized for sanities demise
jungled Worlds between brass bands and lace-lined edging and curves
deep and dark forest within found beyond the zip-lock punch of lip-locked whispers
top of the top - shades for blazed gaze....
eyes to soul..... covered with blackened lenses ....
...tinted....
thought of as dark painted...
belated....
the severe truths absorbed and held at a distance
from red painted lips
and dusted blue eyes
like letters from a forgotten lover
ears no longer to hear the long before discovered
black-lined cheeks drawn by rivers of salt.... clinging on like a leach
sweet sucked till my imploding red of life within becomes bleek
to turn inside-out
remove all fears and doubts
The Hold of the Cold
shredded....
forever embedded
history for stories of hand held strength
my time is now to spawn growth of light
this is my first class flight
here in these days of night
pure white.... I will find my moon bright
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