Charlotte Anna Witts

Free me as an exotic bird you've kept too long
and is beginning to pluck its own feathers
To the vast illusion that presses humanity's shoulders
Let me soar over shapeless musings that still clutch
...

Peeling the sandals from my feet
Like the rind of a lime from its flesh
I fling them away, to their cushion of green.
Naked soles, naked soul
...

You are a riddle to me
An elusive story that will never be uttered
A swallow that perches on my shoulder awhile
Then migrates with the inevitable call of the season
...

The entire planet can fade into oblivion
Descend into the airless vacuum
If I could suffocate in his clutch again
The bluebirds cease their melodies
...

The time bomb is ticking ceaslelessly before me
My every blink drawing the ignition closer
Running is useless when the walls have closed
Martyr myself for my addiction
...

He splinters into fragments with dark eyes of delinquence
Wrapping tarnished wings over suffocated crown
Concealing the sky from these childlike clutches
And picking the bracken from the hem of my gown
...

...

I will not write I cannot speak
Except mindfully skip the bolts that head my way
Smudging the prints laid by aching fingers
And the sky is open and stretched before me
...

I want to devour you like there is nothing standing between us
Burrow into the place I claim to own
Set down my roots like some great oak
To pierce the hardest of soils with the softest of intentions
...

A desperate hunger clawing its way into the soul,
Tearing vigorously at the essence of all sanity,
Shuddering those shoulders into the finest specimen of vibration,
And releasing only to fill its lungs once again with the air of my despair.
...

Delivered by a bewildering sheer indifference
Nurtured by the sap of an immoral crop
Like an acorn tearing through the lava of daydreams
While the brittle carcass of yesterday rots.
...