Birth Is a Tomb

Leaping through hoops of fire looking for relief Brearh sagging to the lowest depths where my eyes can no longer see into the flesh but begin the violent journey into catacomb halls where ghosts stamp my brow with cold kisses in self fullfilling ruins-no light exists exists here except the lights we give off in our own bodies in our own tombs already since birth This home where we come to live so one day we may prepare to die