heartache is

the solitary

conductor of

the soul…

it moves us

towards madness

or atrophy

some of us have

been left trapped

within the first

lesions

swearing allegiance

to bloodstained

binarial backhands

or presumed

pitiable perversions

birthing loyal

corpses

vowing to

never do the same,

a succubatic game

in which we welcome

the end in the beginning

everything has stopped

right here

but there remains

a vision of

a life enduring

we were babies

trapped way before

our time

audaciously contracting

in a travesty of an

icy utero

imagining the inconsolable now…