Behind the wall
I dance with nightmares
and in the penetration of lust
around a heart that no longer feels
I tell stories to myself
about things it remembers.
Drafts, call from windowpanes
and urge me to the beyond
with next level possibilities,
a thousand doors
of slammed opportunities opened.
It is my choice.
I have climbed to this point
fighting to the breach that waits
and having been shown he way
I must walk through
though no one is waiting to catch my fall
but myself, which will then smash
wet and raw on the cold rocks below.
My façade is waning
my heart is breaking beats
that back me away from the pane
and press my back to the wall
with frightened crocs
tumbling from my eyes,
my knees break and slide
folding my arms down
into a petrified fetal embrace.
I hear the rattle in the walls
pound the liquid cavity of my chest.
I strike keys to the beat
see myself sitting in a monotonous stifle
as young Pink oblivious to all around
and lost in a world of my design.
I hurt all over from muscle aches
and heart strains in the aftermath
of unplanned romance
that I have successfully split.
My last child
climbs into a basement cabinet
to play hide and go seek with a life
that must be found
but never will be
after the loud metal click.