From the Rooftops

Indentured to you 

Like smoke to a fire

Like the lungs to breath

Like all the rot that feeds on

The sugars in your blood stream
—

I knock

I stepped forward

Hoping to see your crowning glory

One last time

But all I saw was

Miasma

Curses 

Bile and bitterness 
—

I fell backward

Into

Your many arms

Pierced

Shaken and stirred
—

But 

We speak in paradox

And love is

The language of the crows

Come out tonight

Shamble and cry out

And let the world see it all in the light of day