Cathedral eyes haunt my dreams
Spilling red light through the gaps
Wounding the structural beams
Already splintered by this weight,
This endless stellar cloud of change.
Exhaustion ripples inside of me like
Some distant cousin of old decay.
The termites are cozy inside my soul.
.
Maybe Van Gogh wasn't mad when he
Took the knife into his hands just...
Overstimulated by the building decay,
The dust of his soul piling at his feet.
Maybe he wanted the sound to stop
And maybe there was no snow for him
To tunnel beneath and hide away
From all those sounds of internal rot.
.
Fear follows the summer heat.
Patience burns and broils in August.
Winter aches in the bones of fools,
Yet blossoms like the stars at night
In the minds of the poets who crave
Some respite from the munching ants
Peeling them apart strip by strip.
Bury me like the wildflower then.
Give me a moment of bleak silence.
Freeze me beneath the soil.
About the Creator
Silver Daux
Shadowed souls, cursed magic, poetry that tangles itself in your soul and yanks out the ugly darkness from within. Maybe there's something broken in me, but it's in you too.
Ah, also:
Tiktok/Insta: harbingerofsnake
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