I have found that it is only you
Who knows who I really am
Inside that cathedral of my heart
Where it always rains in the south of summer

It is only you who knows the fullness of my character
Even more than I know myself
Brushing past the allegory and alliteration
Noting all the inflammatory purging of pneumatic emotions

Please preserve that memory of who I was remembering
My constant struggle to regain what I have lost
Spilling past the Carthage of the carnage inside of myself
Relinquishing only the distrust of clarity too prudent to be wry

For when the time comes to reconsider who I am
I know you will preserve this memory with great care
As if to recoil on instinct the touching of the flame
So quick am I to shelter all that I have become
 
© K. James Ribble