Swallowed Us Up

We felt nausea, our ancient surreality—our psychs fleeing science: We gripped ivy, this symbol of signs, as solemn as sanctums; to feel so cursed, albeit, warmness—this voice of broken heritage. I’m teary this cage, this inner prison, as captured by illusions; to summons your thoughts, while to articulate madness—those psychs and their pens; that fortress of scars, as to wrestle through freedoms, this need to discharge—even with saints, or more with priests, if so be our faiths; but here’s a title, this bleeding corset—our uneven twirls;—through lights for darks—that inner vignette, this letter to something beyond scales; as stationed we perish, a legacy of vases—our gravel but an awkward zone; to picture us perfect, those southern cries—our graves asylums about dreams. We wade through terrors, in-love that release, to treasure visions unreal; as floating through wholeness, this gestalt delusion, as to let go of devices: your thoughts my soul; that venomous song; while purposed a petal at vigil; to feel through monsters, this bleeding success, to hear them utter, “It was me”; but such is illness, through structured welts, where death swallowed us up; even to flee, as to flap with wings, that phoenix that culture your life. We’re out to pasture, a specter my semen, to morph into a body; as traveling bone, this ball of fluids, to think more your dreams; while hell would blossom, to rob us one more gain, this treasure infused by contrast; that deep religion, as feuding through sorrows, accusing God for suffering; to wander as biblic, this tackled pain, as heavy as a woman in labor: that faint awareness; that fatal scare; while wombs are fractured inside-out. Your mind our ribs, treated with disdain, to love us as, Nathaniel: this vigil alertness; this steep settling as souls; that casual fierceness; where hands converse, by way of this course, falling where daunted by lights; that vessel of sins, this footprint of terror, to know it didn’t swallow us up!