The Price of Confession

softly the thoughts built inside us. carbon and light kicking and punching at the black holes embedded in our skin.

we were already dying. what was one more dose of poison.

time was eloquent. and sinister. the devil in a tuxedo made of glass.

the sparkle blinded us. the glamour confounded. we navigated on instinct and fear. feasting on the distance. only needles and lies for language.

our weakness was a comfort. fumbling at the day. with our broken pencils and burnt matchsticks.

hard candy left in the sun.

we don't break. we suffer.

the end doesn't arrive. it simmers.

time digs its tunnels. hollowing us out until the void is all that's left.