Spiked

He came upon me

silently

underneath the overgrowth

thicket and thorn

underneath the well worn shoots

of sorrow

i was born

lost in the silent womb of knowing

left of the field where the poppies grow

soldered together from candy tipped shards

of saline and dough

there beneath the whimsical treats

foraging around in the salvaged deep

I belong to the worm holes

and the deeper truths

that parade in their underwear

bearing their souls

to the first tips of the winter flow

the satellite show

the meteoric rise 

the ebb and the flow

the full on surprise

the game of chance

the dices are set

on a spin

for a quest

from the deep dark chasms of regret

blushing I came

into the dream of the day

blushing and seeping out glue

from the mended fragments of a once born heart

lover of yesterday 

grim illusory spiked through

the piece of me that bleeds dew

love lays wanting

on the edge of reason

carved by my own fair hand 

towards the sun