Prismatic Feelings

When light

Nails your fingers

Stale air

Drags on your breathing

A night breeze

Cools your skin

It is the brisk pen,

The harsh press

Into paper

Until it bleeds

Gothic love

Until it breathes

Brilliant death

I haunt the clouds

That spill

From the moonlight

These thoughts hold

My mind suspended

Will I ever find relief?

Do I seek redemption,

To punish my sweet organs

With promises of pain,

Of sweltering terrors? And

Lovely, lovely things

Cracked windows,

Ailing mirrors

Their health

Are finite

Honey eclipses

On my tongue

Star-struck blemishes

In my eyes

I sing to clouds

To bring me the sun

And maybe this

Will give me life