The Subconscious possesses my fragile fingers, tracing the rusted doorknob.
My errant body ambles off, leaving the scent of presence behind.
The inviting entrance embraces my hand delicately.
Luring me into a House where
Detaching walls scratch the surface of my arms into strips,
Shattered marble floors unsteady my feet,
Cracks of wailing winds bruise my ears black and blue,
Pictures peer through my dark-developed eyes,
Leaks pour cold crimson droplets onto my feathered face.
Where lingering inhabits the house,
The Key remains.
For the Home where It keeps an existence
To Stay Alive.
Beating the Heart
For the sake of benevolence.
The Heart Beats exist.
ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-Dump.
The Resilient Heart.