Ivory Flakes
The wind and whispers are companions for life,
they carry the pain and ivory flakes that dare blisters like a sharpened knife.
I may hold my breath and pull these monstrous mists from the dark,
With strength drowning in weakened knees, weaving from a warrior’s bark.
Weapons are welded from the ashes of pain,
aching for the service that seeps from these veins.
I am made in a million ways to yearn but dare not love these lungs of scars,
For they still house an endless graveyard,
An ocean that once held a forest of fauna, flourishing like a barnyard—
Now shattered and shackled to the brokenness that holds a smile,
Perfectly patterned in a pathetic piece of pride.
Lied to by rivers and leaves,
Broken by lovers and thieves.
Walk, if you can, through the dancing stars with me.
See if the souvenirs in the air belong to the heart of artistry.
Show me what it means to subtly breathe,
Without the winter that makes me bleed.
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