Arc of dahlia

Preconceived notions
in motion
Vitriolic endeavor
The tether to apathy

I marinate in the cloak they fashion
Suturing myself into this synthetic veneer
Adhering to this external solace
Forced to fondle only the surface
When deep down
I've been trimmed of purpose

A newly minted petal
Of a flower
in a vase of malaise

Harrowed by years of misguidance
My emotions, untraveled
Ravelled and in bloom
In a razor lined room
I cinch the spill
until
emphatic palpitations astir
It is the quivering of the lip
The furrowing of the brow
The staining of the quip
A disclaimer never vowed

My inner reflections
forbidden
Hindered and ribboned
Blue devils
fermenting
in silk

The savvy of the veil
Breathes poison when fingering the airwaves
Over time
I've grown accustomed to quelling the ache
Harnessed within
a twisted perception
The misery collection

Muddied and blistered
I've centred the sisters
between letch and conjecture
The texture of their reproach
Gritty in my mouth
Southern allure
The cure, impure

Illusory creed altering your mien
Within a silent domain
Tacit and seasoned
Unable to settle the scorn
Forlorn
Under the arc of dahlia