the miles took me farther than i knew that they could. soft and hungry. quiet and clear. a series of unremarkable dots slowly connecting into something more.
empty bottles to breathe for us. scraps of paper as our skin. we're what's left behind after everything that matters has been used up.
we draw ourselves in pencil. prepared to erase the angles we're unable to resolve.
swallowed by the wind as we run. stiffened by lingering bruises as we chance to touch again.
stumbling upon the peaks. agile against the slopes. chewing on the ropes that keep us from falling.
tasting the memories. broken candies whose sharp pieces stick in our throats.
so sweet and hurtful.
the past scratches our truths deep in our veins. all blood and confessions too stubborn to heal
dog-eared pages in the fictions we once called true. that still chase the narrative we failed to complete
and forgetting.
always forgetting
why we left.
Post a Comment