Buried Alive

When light grants me well,
the woman in the mirror thinks she has the
keys of her own prison in her own hand,
and so reflection presents
itself once again,
the shards of my heart are
as my sword,
slicing me whole
buried alive in psychomantium.

I love the unreason,
she finds me irrational,
neurosis climbs
my mental ladder,
but when I get to the top, the sky is empty.
I feel two things at once
and now I'm over the tower of Babylon
the edge is steep
and he lets me stay there like no other.
This position is the most unforgettable moment,;
an odyssey I most definitely welcome.
Do I forget Death?
He's always there
hanging on the ends of my hair,
standing on my toes,  I've touched his face,
the texture of fire,
Nobody fathoms me like him, Nobody knows .
You've bludgeoned my cosmos, you three-faced goddess,
now I'm buried alive in its crumbles.
You forget I still have hands and for you


my fists flies.