deepundergroundpoetry.com
You Bleed More Beautifully Than Even Roses Bloom…
I draw my voice in these letters
And drink from my heart like a poison well
Regurgitating a thought
In an attempt to make meaning of the madness
Line by line, what’s at the end of each line
But a statement racing towards making sense
Of myself in light of shadows
Waiting on a delayed train of thought
Like slow release and gradually learning to feel again
Breathe in a vape pen, the ink is a progressive boil
Rolling its way into meaning while stillness fools the onlooker
Standing stationary at the surface
Till the fire evaporates all that attempts to extinguish it
What is ink but an outline of a voice once spoken
Like chalk framing a body of work
The letters die till sentiments revive them
And the legacy of a thought encapsulates the soul
As if every book is a casket to memory
Or a time capsule of former things
Preserving the highlights of who we were
Like dust reflections on sand castle empires
What is the end but a set up to a more beautiful existence?
And this valley but a meadow awaiting full bloom
Where rocks at the bottom
Are but foundations laid in alignment with the cornerstone
Fortify these walls crumbling around me
Waging war with a mind mutiny to its own perception
There’s a crack in my eye leaking consciousness
Obscured vision framed through a lens yearning for contact
Waiting on close encounters from the heavenly kind
Predestined conceptions of life begun at the finish line
Reverse engineering what it takes to live a dream
As I hold my life so close I feel like I’m losing it
And grip tighter
Only ever to watch years slip like seconds through my fingers
Left with questions at the precipice of an answer
Destinations reservations, salvations
RSVP for wedding banquet invitations
Signed in blood and addressed to a collective bride
Am I burning out or just beginning to realize
What it is that burns inside
Beginning from giving away the ending
Maintaining square one to launch into destiny
Milestones of home renovations and debts paid
Temporal residence is but a vehicle taking us where we belong
Preservations reparations give purpose to my respirations
What does it take to make a breath worthwhile?
Just add meaning
And tell me where this is going
As I learn to obey restraints as I translate vision
To write it and make it plain what is the result of You and I
Found with child of what the Spirit carries into fruition
I want to come alive, tell me what it means to live before I die
As these scars till the flesh
And a crimson thumb caters to the harvest
You plant verses in the soil of my being
As I find beauty in the blood
Finger-painting murals made of sorrow
Staining the canvas of this life
Legacy entrenched in struggle
Composing landscapes
Making altercations to the world
To leave a mark worth its weight in eternity
And brand names into embossed tombstones
Mercy dismantles reason to feel entitled to apologies
Coveting a heart worthwhile
Purity in the reconciliation
Of every error that proceeds the trial
I have no identity until I am distinguished
Yet not of what I can produce
But after the value assigned to me by love…
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