Buried memories

What buried memories have I?
Those that would drag me to
  their perfidious depths;
  where the skeletons of sanshi await
  to cradle an ancient woe

Those that would evulse tears unbidden,
  ignite the searing guilt,
  encite the burning questions;
  lead the rings of fire to shed shame
  amidst blush and fluster

They who would turn a deaf ear
  to apologies and promises
  whispered in the darkness, and
  ignore pleas for forgiveness
  that are without cause for forgiving

They who would loath to be swayed
  by endorphic rocking in empty corners;
  are immune to violent nails
  and gnashing teeth;
  ignorant to forearm carvings
  and knuckle shatterings

Those who would taunt my mind
  behind tightly closed eyes;
  shadows in the eigengrau,
  penetrating the walls of my penetralium;
  painting convincing portraits of a me,
  who is not me

What buried memories have I?
Invasive inquilines planting
  and supplanting realities,
  controverting the fantasy of perceived sanity,
  convincing their host that they belong,
  whilst he never will

art: (untitled) by Zdzisław Beksiński

Published by a.d.matthias

no w here

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