Clawing Through the Barren Soil

I rub myself in ointments and oils,
Flowers of the dead and of Death.
I am soaked in the spit and blood of the Gods,
Brain and heart pounding on flesh and bone.

The spirits are climbing out of my lungs,
Pushing through my throat
and mouth.
The pain of surrender is the ecstasy of the wild.
The tears fall down my cheeks; rivers of sacrifice and love.

I claw at my flesh,
It is the soil in which my soul is housed,
I rip and tear until my soul is exposed.

There is an old toad croaking in my belly
There are birds in my chest,
The moths dance in my fingers,
I am writhing snakes, and howling dogs
I am roots and feathers
Bound by blood.


2 thoughts on “Clawing Through the Barren Soil

I welcome you to leave a comment below...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s