My Cradle and my Grave

Boundaries urgent,
within  their superior margin.
 butt against the still pressure
to brand me

Slipstream,  backwash,  agitate
 your potency against the
 rubber stops that bollard,
my demeanor

Muffle,  smother,  and strangle
my autonomy,  with your tall
 caliber of subordination

Success is my victory
Let me go in peace

Pitted high,  in my solitude
 a wasteland etched.
Memories stand,  like eremetic sillhouttes poised,  against
my horizon

The dense crust, that coats
 the will of my decision becomes
my cradle, and my grave.

Carbon paper effigy,  frayed,
 Exhalation of cobweb filament,
lays down with dregs,  and moss
green velvet

Your words,  I tear out by hand
 from my neck and chest.
Shards of insults razored
 beneath,  toughened skin
Scarlett drops trickle,  gather like
a mote that surrounds me

Granite with horneblende carved
from my flesh morter from my
blood I build my fortress
With Pain as  my cornerstone
Individual is my capstone