Tessellation

 

Dig deeper,

Nail treasure chest, 

Hope, faith, serendipity, 

Wipe away blood, 

On stormy sea floors, 

Turn over the books, 

Tear them apart. 

This is not a game. 

Fear of losing,

Is your weakness. 

Throw out the rule book. 

Scrounge the last drawer, 

On your knees, 

Because prayers

Cannot be heard, 

When you shout. 

Hear that voice? 

Small, silent, ignorant

Of knowing 

The taste of victory? 

Catch that voice,

Before it retreats, 

Truth barrels

Resounding, 

But you cannot hear. 

A gentle humming, 

Like birds in black

Forests huddled tired, 

To take flight. 

You hide from who? 

Your own face

Or is it mine? 

I don't need to see

Or hear you. 

I'm on the floor, 

Scratching nails

Underground, 

Holding on tightly

To the love

You can't find. 

This is not a game,

This is not a grave. 

In the remains

Of what could not stay, 

I hold your bones, 

I quietly pray. 

Sometimes, 

You are beneath 

The soil, 

Dragging me down. 

I let go, 

I do not wish to drown. 

Look again, 

The bottom most drawer. 

A rope kept hidden, 

For you 

To pull me out.