The soul is laced with loss

Cross-stitch floss

Stabs with skill the names

Of the lost dreams

The lost faces in the drink that lets one forget my mother’s hand

My mother in law’s fingers as she handed me her ring

Fuck

The manic

Feel the beast inside me
Slamming itself violently
Into the shell
Burning like hellfire
Infuriating my head with its magic
Just before bed
    I fight The Manic.
Scramble to hold the limbs
The body of cinders brims
I seek the still
To relax the grip of hell
Extinguishing is my myth
Always glowing ashes
Of the ambushing Manic.