ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑡

comatose

This vision is a spider web
Of love in an airtight pyramid
On a sleeping girl,
In dark patches, a shaking hand
Recovers an artery of angel blood.

My mind is not a state of fancy
When the heart is the only vice
Sounding up to the ceiling cracks,
And then— a fire kindles
On innocent marshmallows.

I am swearing an oath to black curtains
While my braveness plays in brevity
Like a classical dancer changing
Her hand's gestures with next notes
In half a speed of a tidal wave.

You talk so much to me
When you are five rivers apart.
Maybe you are lounging in ultimate heaven,
And I am meant to hang between
Realms or probably cast out rocks
Which once made a beautiful planet.

When the food of humans becomes a
Scavenger hunt left to organs to fend for,
My eyelids long to tear apart
Like orange peels shielding a grand feast
From a famished human.

I'm locked under ice,
They speak around me of roses
Or how a sunflower without the sun is just a flower,
The rays are gone but I am still
Stuck behind a window just wide enough
For you to slip out and disappear.

My voice is lost on the top
Of a rollercoaster, death ride,
The electrician never present here
And the electricity's out indefinitely.
Oceans and seas float towards me,
I reckon it my melting muscles of awaiting.

Heart has changed all colors of rainbow,
It shies away but from you: wrinkles,
I call it a chaotic order of gentleness. 
Paralytic in an adrenalin rush,
Birds forget love and shriek in my ears
Of a cracked bone through a perfect heart.

If ice is cold, then I am blue to touch
You're a literary myth, subversive
Yet magical to beliefs— too precious to stir
And too sublime to look at twice.
If I see myself once in outer body mist,
Then life would not be something I insist.