Asphodelus.

I know you see me,
you've seen me
undiluted in this salty sheets
never to be heard,
or loved,
or believed.

Blue,
blue used to be your word,
your prohibited glare of confusion,
now it's blank,
bland, 
the death of illusion,
the awaited lack of delusion.

I once allied to the light,
like a moth to your flame,
hypnotized by the beauty that lingers in the ashes,
ashes
you dared to call yours
when,
in reality,
they where these very wings
torn apart,
burnt,
beneath the brutal smell of this breeze
that won't kill me,
nor free you.

Red,

my hands,

my arms, 

my neck,

my body,

wrecked,

only debris to be carried away by your careless blows,

punches of ignorance,

expecting me to fall 

again,

right into your bed,

too broken, 

too silly, 

too narrow.

But I've found myself again, 
right where I belong,
in the center of this vortex,
the eye of the hurricane,
where all my voices sound at once,
where all my senses come to fight,
we are here,
we hear the brittle pieces of your maps collide,
we're coming to war,
rage,
rage,
rage,
against the dying of the dark.