Fissures

"Fissures" acrylic on canvas by Cristina Querrer

Within the fissures--words

Caught in between the slats

Like meat in between teeth

Keep grinding the bone

Till there is no more

Furthermore no fossilized

Imprints of someone's death grip

To remind us of the turbulence

Somewhere in the cracks

Someone said "I love you"

Someone else said

"We're better off apart"

There's the cave drawing of us

Primal, minimal that just

Points out the obvious

"It is what you make it"

Yet I try to save you

From yourself and you

Insist it is me who is drowning

Chip away at my chivalry

But you know I am right all along

Another chance may come

But hurry, the paint is peeling

Take my hand, I'll pull you up

I'm prophetic, you know

Ghosts from these walls

Tell me things--they say

You will perish here or there

But don't thank me for

Bringing you to this room

Because you decided to stay

It's time to go

Stop being stuck, frozen

Like the broken clock

The bureau is full

Of old clothes that don't fit

The closet is full of mold

Go to the window

You'll see me waving below

Wake up, wake up, I keep

Saying--the island

Will bury you if you stay

Too long--they'll

Take to their spears

Yet you think I'm the enemy

You shun me, shut me out

I understand

It's part of the illness

If possible, run