jealousy has another name

if only sinks, becomes sludge, thick in the throat and try to vomit it out but it gets more congested with each cough. cough out the phlegm, like spittle drooling as waves cascading on a tall tower the bottom too low for laughter above to drift down. and the red face becomes purple. a flag of many symbols painted like stars on a canvas becomes the chant where a warrior mounts his horse - to challenge those above in a fair fight, when the spittle lands on chest quite disturbing with all the hairy knots lumped together with each thump as fist hit. bellow. music above, silence below where the red blood flows like the sea parting before moses, but this caller parts no water. only an outflow of rage, everything is red with a spear launched towards the unfair fates. a pitter patter of rain, like footsteps rushing from backwards, each time piece unlocked again: to peer beneath that granite brick, the worms do wriggle, they make no cocoons nor metamorphosize. then mother raises her loving arms, gathers her children in an embrace, her cheery laugh breaks the red tide spell of broken bones in a forsaken field of dying chants. the sky tower sinks, the far becomes near and a child's plea becomes a quiet sigh when night wraps her coldness around this whimpering adult still shaken by sobs from something taken away. it's not your fault - the blessed stars now sit by a worn out soldier starring at a tide that has raged, swept the forest and left nothing in between. where did life go? and the tears welled up, the soil became damp with life calling out. without a need to make another detour from fates barren. it's here, it's now, it's inside this warm body wanting life. i'm here, i'm present, i'm calling the man shouted to the sky though laughter had turned red. purple even with bruises all around when a knight's cracked armor is found all over the wicked land, with wasp stinging skin, welts forming from a dozen lashes from life turned sour. uneven, broken, with feet blistered and bloodied. the footsteps become soft and hush, with a cough becoming a clearing passage through which the obstacle, the blockage became all. all of life seen from below where music plays above - and the transformation that came along when the restless sea refused to budge. you've got to breathe, mother said and. it soon was quite clear - when heart pumped wildly, doors opened to invite the spirits in. and you know what they say, it's who you let in.