A monster rises
A monster rises from the skin
eyes ablaze, the fangs displayed,
and spits the fire of vicious ire
into the air I breathe.
Down it travels, hot, hot, hot
through the esophagus
straight to that tender part
some would call a heart.
But ’tis a place that spirit builds
with walls of love un-roofed
and doors that open full unto
a better place to be.
Thus open it’s a landing strip
for devils, monsters, him,
and I’m surprised they till arrive
when every day I try, try, try,
to see them in a different light.
And as the manic manners shout
walls and doors quiver, quake,
until a crumbled ruin that part
some would call a heart.
But foundations laid and sunken
suffer not that vicious ire
when buried deep and deeper than
a monster”s artful reach
and yet the wait for love’s rebuild
like a forever internship
in this excuse for life!
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