Hang on

at open sea,without an anchor,
I fight my way through imaginary waves
in a makeshift ghost ship that's bound
to sink any day now

to see through laced salt is to understand
how skin can be a wound and vision
a curse cast by a witch drenched in
unholy water

there's no movement,no wild sound-
my lighthouse is beaming with gold amidst the blue,
but I'm blind and I'm numb and my lips
are sizzling shells with no flesh
or pearls to contain in a word
of drowning poetry

"hang on" murmurs the nothingness beneath my feet,
"hang on" cries the seagull with flapping wings,
"hang on" laughs the voice inside my head

there's no such thing as salvation without destruction-
my hope now lies in the sky

my sand-filled conscience stings
and pushes me under
with the wrecks