Rigormortis Of A poem

Rigormortis Of A poem

1.
how can my heart feels its pain
through the solid confines of life
my soul bleeds from constant survival
drawn to the mirror my eyes dead
they stare back into the abyss -
of my blinded eyes
can I not see beyond yesterday
holding the pain at arms length.

2.
no one knows the hurt nor the inner being
they can't see the brokenness of my soul
nor do they care to find the shattered body
hidden by years of pain that lives on in my spirit
yes I'm forlorn in my desperation to separate
what was and what is left on this merry -go - round
shall I care for myself without feeling death -
pursue its benefactor or flee once and for all.

3.

whose eyes are these steel blue pools that stare
looking through my eyes finding the cold blade -
twisting and turning without hands or fingers
here I am alone with this stranger that I know so well
knowing that I can't run from the enemy of  my soul
Ah ! I can't shake this powerful destructive emotion
its blades cut my legs off and nail my heart to the floor
leaving me in such a strange house far from home.

4.

there is a knowing that the horizon ahead and behind-
hold the same hindrance - pouring such a heavy liquid
from my eyes there is a dry flood of un - used tears
I will not gain a helping hand nor a compassionate word
for there is no cutting or dividing or separating what the blade
deems its own property - I'm walking forward and falling back
spreading the blood of my life in front of the mirror.

5.

soon there will be no reflection ! no time to dwell in this room
there is no looking forward into the horizon or the backward -
stare as I walk away hand in hand with my shadow
finding my feet perfectly balanced - steering clear of my blood trail
for who would look for an enigma - a creature far from sanity
without form or fame - who can see through a ghost as it rises ?
I've held on so very long with these knives yearning to find blood
for no one would recognize me without scars or visible pain !

6.

I hear the sound of my voice calling out from its grave
its mine but there is no recognition - no rising from the hellish pit
I've set my soul on leaving - reaching for the darkest star
cutting my way through the blackest sky with the knives in my back
having experienced this danger I've grown accustomed to my plight
awe this heaviness ! holding onto my weakness I'm consumed
by the weight that I carry too willing to bare this burden alone
so well I hid this stranger in my body and soul without introduction.

7.

is there time somewhere in this poem to reconcile with heaven !
maybe find a way to lose myself in the words that fall from my mind
my heart is openly bleeding- leaking its life force while I'm numb
I find myself walking backward - fearing what I haven't seen nor felt
now you see my poetry is my savior - my wings spread upon my pages
and here it is that my fingers marry my mind so perfectly in my words
now it is that I've found a purpose - for someone - somewhere -
needs to read my falling life before rigor mortis kisses my flesh.