Immortalized

A Poem by FaeryQueen

Immortalized by love and-
Fearing the world as the cave of loneliness

descends and decrees it’s final judgement on

the faces of yesteryears and tomorrow’s to come-
We are both enlightened by our dowries for each other-
But both our hearts are still tangled up in cords

of our pasts and I doubt there will be a reckoning

where all that’s left would be roses and leaves of color-

But I am forever hopeful-
My share of pain and wound and scar

and melancholy madness is at a brink

and willfully jumps off the windowsill on

your kitchen floor-

Descending into the bowels of hell-
Exactly as I said-

Deepen the crack on my back-
Hoping my past lovers won’t come back-
Overridden by envy amidst all the love in my

heart, pouring over you, showering you with kisses-
You see nothing-
There is a fire in your eyes, your heart, lungs-
Let it go-
Breathe-
Don’t jump-
Walk slow-

I’ve learned to kindle fire-
Again and again, over and over and over

just to try and justify the ends and the means

and I try not to leak my eyes-
But something inside won’t budge and therefore

I am thrust into the light of another-

This all takes place in my mind-
Over and over, I replay the scene where the

old me dies and another is raised anew in its ash-
But the sword I have fought with for so long has

numbed the pain-

I am sensitive to the crow calls and the tree songs

that emit from inside myself-
Letting the air wither again-
Breath by breath-
My heart takes a dip, stepping into the placid

acid that comes from the sky, sipping it like coffee-

Don’t you wonder how I bring myself up, carrying

my grace like an iron sword, heavy am I to

the ground, dragging along the shadows that

I cast, sparking up the past and holding hands

with unseen faces?-
Let myself be but a w***e for change, let myself

be but a dominion of reflection, I am sudden, like

a heartbeat that ticks and ticks and ticks only to stop-

There is nothing callous about me-
Nothing rubbed, nothing pasteurized, nothing chemical, I am organic-
Ironic-
Coming from the Earth, I see replicas of who

I was, who I had been, who I am; copycats from the Land of Fire-

And tho this poem may be long-
The meaning is concreted in condiments and cowlicks

splattered along the walls of my for-bearings-

I am woman. I stand tall. My words of ice soften

to a melted puddle. My walls are up. I am covered by

Gods blessings. His kisses are the only that I’ve known to

fall onto my skin directly.