Mind Upon The Mantle by Danielle Dix

You’re rushing on and on
like you’ve got something to prove.
Receipts in your pockets,
yet nothing to lose.
Don’t you ever stop, no,
you’ll forget how to move.

You’ll look around
and see the space
you’ve placed your head in.
And that pace blurs the sidelines,
still miles before the view.
Anywhere is paradise
until it isn’t new.

And on and on,
bone to bone,
your ragged axe beats the same stone.

A breath for a dime,
whiskey and wine.
Boxed up and locked in with a bottled lover
while one eye fails to catch up to the other.

You’re beads on a string,
shining things
for spending, for stealing
ever spinning, never leaving the vine.
You’re parallel to a paralyzed decline,
battling a rejection and attraction to the crime.

And the only release from your handmade confines
is in hunting yourself down,
picking at the rind,
boasting your mind upon the mantle,
and the rest upon the wall.
To stand there and marvel,
your trophy so small.

I am a poet with a tendency to focus on challenges that people create within themselves. While adventures steal my money and impulses drive my mind, I am compiling a set of poems that I hope will not fall prey to abandonment in a cardboard box. I have been published in Peeking Cat Poetry Magazine.

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