Restoration

If I could draw my own self portrait – I'm blindfolded, gagged and bound.

My window's drawn.
My light is shattered.
My floor is bare.
I turn away into this corner.

Frozen shards of silver emptiness.

Fingertips shatter the glass
Moving closer – pulling away the dust
And still the view is empty.

Cracks, decays – cutting just to feel.
Bleeding, staining – opaque, brittle and rotten.
Brittle, dust – older than time.
I gave you life...some truths will die with me.

If I could believe that your soul would burn forever
I'd take my sins and commit them eternally.
If I could draw my own self portrait
All you'd see is a tattered canvas at my feet.