PLUTO.

Hiding in myself as i find reasons to stay there,
as i speak to myself,
worrying about nothing as life turns me over a fire,
the spit roast that is human fragility.

I create dead space there too,
quiet darkness where i hide all the ugly things.
The shadows cast by insecurities,
the lies reinforced by prideful stupidity.

I sit in my space,
My own little nightmare that eats me,
I feed this little disease of mine
as it isolates my light with its darkened shroud.

I build a maze too,in there.
like tartarus,
like a coffin slowly filling with dirt.
It gets small,stifling,i claw for life,I scream like the enemies of the gods.

Its my space still,
I created this world of horrors and darkness,
rivers of molten larva flowing
Like a young planet still taking form,
I work still,trying to get the light to shine through to me.

                                                                                        kyalo.

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