Broken hickory trains are
Smudged with scars of ink
And finely lined with charcoal.
Silent turmoil breathes a
Harkening tune of death and
Burning water, growing cold.
You step in spirals and
Turn in winded circles,
An ocean in your veins.
Painted lines of gray
Tremble and bleed out
All empty birdsong.
Promise your lungs they
Will soon breathe again,
Wrapped in twine and quietly
Sinking under saltwater seas.
Yearn for bitter silence
And fear will carve a home.
Bleach wilted eyes and take
Hold of your heart, tighten
Your grip until it cracks.
Burden your mind with
Echoing shadows, wretched
With sorrow and smoke.
Bend your marrow until
Your bones shatter, twist
The fate that these stars
Gave you, withering away.
Cut the line and build upon
Those walls, arrows in your
Soul tormenting your breath.
Allow your body to fold beneath
The wired chaos, lay under moons
Of unrelenting pressure that
Snaps like a nightmare receding.
Trapped in desolate sand, soul
Brimming with heartache as
Withered rails run out of track.
Midnight oil stains across
The paper that carries your
Unspoken sorrows in feeble lungs.
…
Understand why you are still
Here and running out of time.
Blink through burdened glass
And hold a frail stone to toss
Into the river of your lifeblood.
Steep and slow, rainstead
Tainted from endless snow.
Curl into your spine as you
Wait for tidepools to freeze,
And ignore the fleeting crows.
Your mask is cracked and your
Tongue is stilled, but you still
Speak in a foreign poet's song.
Passerby, pass on through.
Ignore my frozen skin and
Aching limbs, my veiled lips
Becoming stagnant as I croon.
Passerby, pass on through.