I witnessed a phenomenon
of fire burning in my head
and turning red was all it took
to lull me completely off.
After that tension test,
honesty is a myth
if I left the details of my breaking down
alone to silent weeping.
There's curses in the morn,
and to the edge of the world.
Reality's a hindrance,
when I break through its collisions.
Bramble was the floor
when I walked beside longing.
Curled up in the crawlspace:
this haven with our torn-out posters.
Reconciling with innate disfunction
Winded in thoughts of embrace
I hide behind self-comfort
with its hand over mine.
Out for the flight
to seek the right resolution
From the crawlspace of shadows
into the gale of storms.
