a window you can't climb out of 
and a deadly drop to prickly blueberry bushes 
a house full of prayers and quiet dysfunction 
when my body decays 
i hope my spirit finds its perfect resting place 
my skull’s interior smothers a stone
fierce red blood gushes from my crown 
a painting of my past against the concrete 
wedged between time and blueberries
jump
my soul beaten and pure 
climbs out from my left ear drum
and sits on my lips watching the ants drown in my blood 
watching the fruit flies nibble on my fingertips 
she feels like a ghost 
as she watches herself die
a ghost that’ll haunt herself 
till someone else takes her place
and she’s finally freed from the worldly obsessions
that acted as shackles around her ankles 
the smoke from my lips causes my nostrils to flare 
and the world begins to shift counterclockwise 
the shackles break and I fall into the sky
past my own reflection which remains in the bushes 
blood stains my feet as a mark of the past 
mental snapshots fade 
and are replaced with clouds 
and I'm formed into an orb of light
wafting through a dimension I hope to be heaven