
“You were made of satin layers and old linen sheets.. How ripe to meet you in heaven’s skies.” 🔸🕯️✴️🕯️🔸

∆ Neural Alchemist | Self-mythologist ∆

“You were made of satin layers and old linen sheets.. How ripe to meet you in heaven’s skies.” 🔸🕯️✴️🕯️🔸
Cotton pink undertones
Close by with gentle age
She was creamy, so soft
My eyes sparkled as we met
Pixie baby looking all confused
Going for a ride with mine
I sit silent
I study her magic
The way her skin rainbows
The concern in her delicate sweet face when I leave
I always come back to sadness
Maybe it’s a shape shifting anger
Maybe we’ve hung her; together
But it’s all I ever knew, it’s whom I make true intricate love to
I inflicted upon me paired with hesitations and soon to be’s
cause well maybe I’m human
I sink through all your deadly seas
I sort through my pieces of wool and used flannels and cloth
And I touch the human in every passerby knowing it’s never enough
I touch the heart that aches with stone burning parallels
I touch the mouths through mountains of victims as the dead sings farwells
I vow to be untouched
It’s not enough to breathe in and exhale my stomach, my liver; my heart
It’s hard enough to wake alert and dress up the rest with the earth’s hardened dirt
Soul tied to a suit and some layers that aren’t mine
But to most it’s fine, some say quite divine
I couldn’t harm a fly; I wish to kill a billion
And so
I harm the self that promises to let things go (let things sow)
Burdened by the death of each solitary season
Hands pressed in pulses pleading to be granted the sights of a hermits reason
I believe I felt it
The moment once connected
Created
That spark