Death Grip
Releasing myself
Death grip on a dull knife still makes meticulous slices into slanted past memories like a thick murky soup that swirls into the present motion of today
It’s had you clenching chaos for years now and you knew this was coming but your grip never wavered always steadfast your very own steel fortress of forgotten fingers hellbent on shaping control
Just let it go mortal wounds will keep you in prison living on a landslide one false move and you might collide and end up on the other side of yourself and buried before the break of dawn
Even on summer days that breathe fire you still can’t seem to peel your crimson fingers from agonies and ironies an angry infestation of hollow needles and crookedly sewn scars how dare this life only make you bleed
It will hardly be white-knuckled glory trying to change already written chapters of this overdone neverending story of myself and you
Death grips make time slips you’re still pacing spewing juicy tears into an abandoned mine shaft that doesn’t filter the shallow rain now a blinding trickle of porous pain and bathe for too long you will fall long before you can ever trip again
Just drop it all on the ground let it unravel and unleash its tattered hideous horrifying beauty that hateful ball of frayed yarn wound up so tight it will be a glorious release that lightens your tangled feathers for a calculated sideways flight
Let people look at you as they may think of you as they do and draw your face with rosy shards of glass you must fracture your own feet before chasing those perceptions like they’re your own dreams
Death arrives with the tides so drop it before the last of you gets swept to sea and watch it fertilize the soil in your grave
Then you won’t grasp words on an epitaph because you’re worried somebody might misspell your name