A Million Pieces.

Seconds from the end, fleshing out hurricanes,
The world gasps as she starts to tumble,
Her soul screams through the cracks,
A magma frequency, high pitched burning.

My subsidiary house buys me time
"While birds creep over the tin roof,
Like criminals with tap shoes."

The scattered pieces of myself run across the jagged floor
Bleeding my soles and leaving a trail of misery behind.
In these last breaths I want to speak my secrets;
Pick up hope-shards as they gravitate to-wards truth.

Slowly, my shelves lurch and regurgitate,
Books, like angels, sprout wings and fly
Collecting pens and memories in a halo,
Then disappearing with one blink
Into the vacuum sealed skies.

Pictures leap from their frames tight grasp,
I realize one stitch of hesitancy cost me everything,
As I watch our faces bleed into one under the ugly rain.

Time doesn't allow me to salvage the thoughts and intents
Of two hearts hell bent on yesterdays somber happiness.
The world curses as she falls, gray and agonizing.

This is my end, I accept it and cower,
Feeling you under my skin.

As the ceiling caves I crawl under the tables,
Digging deep within my chest with bruised hands,
Searching for the seeds of my Innermost,
Expecting life through this storm;
New ground to plant and re-grow myself.

Flowers separate into butterfly-petals,
Axioms of color, slowly falling to the ground.

Under the couch, dimly glowing,
More mosaic puzzle pieces of myself.
I gather them all, cradling like a child
In helpless, bleeding forearms.

Crying sandpaper tears from underneath this table
Holding a million tiny pieces of what heart I may have,
You left me splattered with ink; a cursive flow within my veins

Waiting for the sorrow to sigh,
Or the eye of the storm to blink.

October 14th 2008
(c) Novalyn Grace RRL