Shadow Wound

I believe

I could navigate the treachery blindly;

My hands bound with barbed wire

Behind my back;

I need the beauty in decay;

An illuminating darkness leading the way;

The subdivision of emotion at a molecular level;

Letting go of our father, whose deceitful reflection sells us what we cannot have;

The lack of impulse control…

This yearning to constantly destroy and rebuild;

An anxiety greater than any work of art could ever claim to be.

For the daily routine is a deceitful treason

And my shadow an open wound.

All I want is home.


I want

Is home.

With automatic emotional responses left behind;

Silvering with wings outstretched;

Becoming whole again.

Complete within incompleteness.

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