A Charm Against Things That Have No Place In Me

‎"The bells on my feet rage in rhythm
against your smallness. They toll
for things that have no place
in me, no walls with crevices
to leave their seeds in
to grow and undo. 

I stomp to the ground the hatred you throw at me
to keep, water and whisper.
I adorn myself to set myself apart
from your plundering away at molehills of pettiness...

Any darkness there is, lies smeared around my eyes,
reminding me to seek 
to see more clearly. I peel the clouds from my eyes 
and leave them by the side. 

What lies in my gut is timeless 
and it rises and flows through me now.
It comes out not as a cry of despair
but as the dance of death, of ends,
and new beginnings.