#rejects corner

I've listened to your litanies for eons;

dogmas and diatribes

against the vulnerable.

And, as I retreat deeper into myself -

introversion from now on,

a kind of conversion,

but with some catharsis

rather than a crisis

of identifying this body.

And, the trauma of smelling death.

I've found solace.

Beneath the slatted beams

where thick marrow forms insulation

from the cold inside, and through

the steepled chambers

hallowed prayer beats

staccato in the hollow halls.

Faithless cacophonies peel off the tolling bell

resurrecting wraiths with a single ring

whose voices burn with something

Unimaginable; liturgies

There are so many small deaths in life.

Occasions where your body trudges on,

While your soul remains there in the mud,

And in those moments you become

Something, someone, somewhere .

There was an occasion, once,

Where I dipped my heart in gold,

Wrapped it, in finest silk,

And placed in a chest, for you.

It died there,

Dried out, forgotten, old.

And so, perhaps, did I.

The fires that consumed me

Remained inside,

My body, my tomb, my prison.

You are the final resting place

For every good thing

That ever could have bloomed in me.

I would name you winter

For your arrival drove my soul to wilt,

But it did not bloom again in spring.

The fields were barren in summer.

By fall we all starved to death,

And when winter returned

There was no evidence at all

That we were ever there.

There are so many small deaths in life.

Occasions where I love you means distant fondness,

And I'm done means you have stolen everything that I had left to offer,

And in those moments you become

Rotten, bitter, evil,

Thoughts of you

Buzz at every frequency

I send one like a scout

To see if your radar

Still reads me

And sometimes I feel you

Just out of reach

I check my phone for

Beeps that sound like

Warning bells

Echoing in my

Impenetrable suit

Out of touch

Calling code blue

Yelling fire

In an empty theater

Unsure what im

Running toward

But hoping you’re there to hold me

Past the tape and blinking lights

Wishing that you’d

Want me

To stay within range

Of your heart beat

Wondering about those flatlines

And the silence that followed

Bracing myself for

The uncertainty of space

And limited air

Checking my radio and

Pinging like a

Treasure hunter

Metal detector

Getting on my knees and

Running through myself like