Death On Thursday by Ivy

​There’s a procession of anxiety moving across the sky
dropping reeks of perspiration across my view.
It turns my thoughts to poison.
Who will line my walls with small talk of days gone bye bye of not so long ago?
There’s a treasure chest that has been sealed with mold from unwashed hands.
I don’t dare lift the lid when I can’t remember what’s inside.
Who will be brave enough to take a peek peek to see beneath the velvet lining?
There’s a memory of a mirror where I dressed in soft cream leather
with Indian head dimes down my torso
causing my ancestors to turn their heads.
It takes my breath to the other side.
Who will comb my hair when I lay my head down down on the empty aired lap?
There’s a room where the phone no longer rings causing me to go blind.
I cry when I’m alone and listen to panting beats quickening my heart.
Who will cup tears for me me when the door is locked?
There’s a shield without an emblem laying naked on the grass
melting towards the lava rock tunnels.
It can live there forever for all I care.
Who will remind me of what it means means when the sun comes up?
There’s a man that’s now a stranger drinking from a half full glass.
It escapes me why his dreams turned away so fast and smokey.
Who is it that can restore my womb womb when it has shriveled in the end?
There’s a knot I’ve forgotten how to chew open with teeth and pull apart with my nails.
It slips from my grip as I yearn to fall apart.
Who knows the combination of release release if I’m ever to breath again?
There’s a magic potion that’s told to bring about whirling Trojans stuffed to the gills.
It seems like a gift of course but looks aren’t everything.
Who can tell me where I set the opener to pry pry and set it free at last?