Mental Interpretation to My Body
written by Kaysina Melody
embraces the haunted house of a rib cage and a tight rope spine;
a heart that pumps oil rather than blood,
and lungs that have never been permitted to exhale toxins
leaving me to believe I have no room for healing or light.
light does not supplement or define
a suitable synonym for healing,
just the inability to experience insight
into my own choices.
my rib cage turns into a xylophone of horrors
crying out in haunted pleas for solace.
Trespassers have been warned at my rusted gates
to never be fooled by the sun rays that pass through my transparent
Remember, the light blinds those who wish to see a vivid picture.
my bones begin to deteriorate into coarse sand.
The same sand that negotiates time tables and fate
to those on the edge of their own destiny.
My facade has lowered, not due to my own will,
yet somehow I find peace in its own silver lining.
As the last haunting melody chimes through the wind,
I am reduced to nothing but a tiny seed,
just in time for the next soul to be swept away
in their own parallel universe.