You wake up to find your shoes are gone
Your dreams are dead,
Your heart has changed.
Your old friend pain still by your side,
He has a new haircut.
The house is empty,
Except for one painting
A portrait of you.
It has drawn itself, over time,
When you weren’t looking.
The colours are too bright for your liking.
Two vertical wounds snake through your back.
Snapped bones, lost structure,
What you once believed to be Noah’s ark
Looks strangely like the Mignonette, sailing to ruin.
You sinned, you ate the cabin boy.
Or were you the one who was eaten?
Your hands clutch rocks
Rocks turn to dust
You try to steady your heartbeat
Your heart beats you, unsteady,
Life’s bible holds no more truth
Or is it you who can’t see truth anymore?
It’s something broken, the world you’ve built for yourself,
The walls of the house have cracks,
worms thrive between them.
Worms worm your heart.
But for there to be worms,
There must be flowers, and life.
There is life. There are roses.
The two wounds on your back will heal.
And yes,it hurts when wings start to grow,
When all that ties you to earth
you have to let go.
It hurts to start
A new work of art,
Because it means accepting that you’ll never be put back together,
That the shadows are unerasable,
That no shade of green will turn back to blue
That some bristles are too rough to work with.
You bite your tongue, accidentally.
More pain, a brush,
More paint, a fresh start.
Rain follows the wild fire,
All is still after the storm.
The shipwrecked ship has sunk,
But you are on your feet.