Lopsided Symmetry

My heart, a slope
of steep apprehension
has descended
down her slippery slide
beyond former depths
where capabilities were apt
at revival

My tongue, a shadow
encumbered with afterthoughts
of poems lost,
where truth became mistrusted
and my utterances
felt inclined to be scrutinized
by drifters
who know not of stability

My soul, a home
limned with blood
among framed silhouettes
of absent conversation
and broken baubles
littering the scenery
with yesterdays,
yet I keep stumbling
over me