Battleships

The sky a perfect template of slate and charcoal
Blowing up like battleships
Drifting in murky waters
With reflections
Marauders
Earth bound
These chemical compounds come to
Crusade against my shell
My flaky skin
And shaky ground.

I seek shelter
To shield myself from the arsenic downpour
But my anxiety is not calmed
By painting each wall with chamomile
Until the porcelain pieces cut my fingers
And my feet
And I can't toss anymore.

But who would have thought
That iceberg mirrors
Would shower so much light
And calm my scattered storms
By wrapping up my waves so tightly.

These misfit sentiments
Spread throughout the air
To be inhaled
And shared
In a halcyon summer
Down in the static doldrums
Where shades of grey
Become bright hues
And softened eyes
Reverse my blind
And splintered view.


-------------------------------------


What I really think.