It’s like that,
but the bruises
are your best self
being boned,
drudged, left
to spoil alone.

All miracles
are so quick
to desert me
but my hells
are a thousand
times themselves.

Engulf ground
you walk on,
raze every tree
you walk under.

Super-sleuth
for clues that
brain (tender
pulsing tooth,
press to feel
the pain),
was correct
to encourage
regress.

I don’t
know why
I can’t let
it let.

From a distance,
everything
beckons.

But within—

well.

Find
out for yourself
what manifests
repair, and
what was made
to remain broken.

 

-By Kaleb Worst, Heart Beat

Advertisements