You don't need to lose your mind to find yourself.
Thin, the castle walls that fall won't reveal some
Notch upon the shelf. Breaching, shadowed, seldom
worn, coughing, spitting, hollowed, torn words embraced
by soldiered breath wraught your eagled burdened breadth,
Can't be used to self describe. For the patient shallow stride
of the ghost by summers morn in the dew and down reborn,
the distraught valleys of your spine the gaunt and feeble
mallow mind, feeding forlourn naive crypts buried. Hidden
tomb unspent. Named forgotten
minds relent is all corroded, cyanide beseeched unloaded
by the tide washing, wailing whales upended, seeking
names though names unended can never relish
in the the splendor of one who's found themself.