Twittering chime
parade of glee
Unspectacular weed
flowing trough me.
Boxed in a box
like a tick or flea.
No one understands–
what they can’t see!
Outside myself
holding my breath-
Or should I say
what is left?
Trapping torment
with false courtesy.
Preexisted past,
without certainty.
Locked in a sanctuary
grave of ivory ribs,
My life in a vault–
trashed crib.
Feet lashing against my skin.
Twirling the rootless
valves of sin.
No one cares! No one adores!
My prison trash
coffin brought ashore.