Your eyes are chandeliers, overly magnificent
intricate crystal mountains
sifting through light effortlessly
amplifying purpose into gentle, technicolor beats

and I’m just one giant faker
clinging to every drifting log of salvation I find

a fringed paradigm I fell off the wagon too soon
and doled out all eleven and a half of my soul’s pieces
to the first hungry half-humans in sight

I want to swim out of my skin and float–
annihilate murky channels in the sea,
impale your dreams and imbue myself
build a platform high enough to live
in the sun’s vision, climb to a temple,
become your foolish idol

but I think it’s best to rot away in pencil ash,
lie and choke on the piles of carbon
my throat refuses to relinquish,
which murmur reverberating
maps of a hallowed path

you my dear, are too much hope for one vessel


3 thoughts on “shipwrecked

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