My pulse radiates through,
Tapping like a hammer to my head;
The temptress actress dances on clawing ribbons,
A mold that clings so desperately, permeates,
Drenching my silhouette in candy lilies,
Slowly tap, tap, tapping,
Sewing the curtains shut;
As a carbonated lace that hides the tapestry,
So well,
From the light that yearns,
To welcome itself;
Yet somehow,
From every dark corner that breaks through,
My invasive enemy,
Keeps me closer at hand.
A prayer can't even save me now.
©Ashley Leslie 2013
