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FETAL REGRESSION
In fetal regression
I have forgotten
Floating marble frozen
Falling like cotton
In Statuesque
Depravity
I cannot fight
Laws of gravity
Feel it close
Slow-winding vice
Around my mind
Like hands of ice
He comes around
To knock on wood
To knock on steel
He comes for blood
Like a stalker
Waits for me
In the corner of the ear
You cannot see
Calls my name
Beckons me home
In the death bed
Steals my soul
Behind the eyes
Losing time
Losing the battle?
Losing my mind!
The time is not near
No choice but to see
All these deliberations
Cannot set me free
Icy concrete,
Blistered feet
Bruised by so dark
And empty streets
Rain pours down
Oppressing me to sleep
As if Heaven felt enough
For me to weep.
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In the fetal regression of my mind
The curl was not reflex from assault
But evidence of my plight
I am strapped to the ground
My wings are soaked with oil
That eats through plastic bags
Preventing my flight
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