ash

Even darkness has a form.

I believe it looks something like:

Me.

I entered into sabotage.

again.

The weight of this burden

crushes

until my eyes begin to leak.

and

my forehead.

begins to crack.

But there is no turning back.

i crept out

perhaps.

before the metamorphosis

was complete.

wet and viscid

mouth incipient,

pushing

to bud lips.

i could not speak.

i could only crawl and creep.

you found me.

in what you thought was

the last breath.

and muffled me in

your own kind of

blanket.

until it became my

skin.

until i became

akin

to

smiling and the

convenience of

omission.

that is,

until.

that day.

when my memory began to stir,

and my lips had finally bloomed.

I crept back.

in search of where I

began.

I found my origin--

shriveled and black

almost nothing but

a stack

of unknowable

weeping

ash.