Protected

A myriad of sentries 
   surround me 
 is it true? 
    if a connection 
 can no longer be felt 
 that it simply vanished 
    or in a hyper state 
  of hibernation? 

   Is it possible 
to be constantly riddled 
    with flux, survive in the chaos?  

Oddly, humans are built
   to disappoint each other 
       tethered to other souls 
 persist in obliteration
   not one that marinates 
       in subtleties  

When the strength to protect 
    my soul vacated from 
that roach motel 
     barely stitched shreds 
 of a ripped spirit 

  Have you ever seen 
      an essence torn 
  and sliced? It’s not pretty
  basically equates itself 
      to Cinderella 
 and the pre-ball endured 
     savagery 

   The fabric of a human soul
       is unimaginably incomparable 
  to a piece of Earthly material 
     it requires a tender touch 
  and much restraint to aid 
      in a process that brims 
           with immense 
              immersed 
                     impossible 
                          solace 

When large hands lift my body 
    I’m relegated to that frightened 
little girl, in attempt to be concealed 
    from this world 
 
   Why raw unique characters 
 who are more that worthy 
      encased a plethora 
            of doubt! 

   Well, I say 
  f@ck that risk saturated 
        anxiety.

How many times 
       can a being relapse? 

  And, how many times 
     will that human being 
 dance a little too close 
    to the crimson 
         embers? 

        I burn in oblivion 
    at the thought of disappointment 
        — escalates my core 
  
   And the abyss
      is ignored 
   no longer discussed 
no longer protected 
    simply discarded 
       to nourish 
   from within 

   Nothing can cure a broken heart 
 even all the cognitive reasoning 
     one could afford 
  
     That’s the point! 
A sentry today, 
     knives and arrows 
in the back 
   of an angel tomorrow 

      A massive contorted 
              puzzle