Look at me.
Playing tailor, like my sprit’s tailored to sewing you back together seam by seam.
Trying to catch a glimpse of your light before the darkness embraces me.
Trying un-rupture the soul that is a twin flame to me.

Trying to be as strong as I can be as I manage this.
The first fissure I felt was back when I was six.
And the cops knocking at the door were met by my fathers calloused fists.
I gave you the key to my betterness!
And I still hope you will put in the time to make sure it fits.

My oldest demon’s revisiting me like our parted ways were secretly the same ass trip.
Lemme take a peak into your erised.
My heart and pen leak in tandem like I was made for this.
Deep enough to bounce back from collapses at the volcano’s tip.

I erupted from the destruction that came from this.
Holding on to my happy was like passing up two levels with a scaffolder’s grip.
The fewture I was molding was folding in.
Probably from all the sin I’ve been indulging in.
So I lay myself out at God’s throne again.
I learn my lessons from the harsher messages.
Maybe I too can rise up from the ashes.