where we are is where we were. have always been. this stubborn skin continues to resolve to the stalled junctures within our grief.
the brush teases its colors. as time whispers under its breath. telling its broken tales in the creases that accumulate in our flesh.
we are numbers. solved by our own stipulations. remainder mitigated.
i struck the horizon with a dull blade. still it bled.
i wrapped my bandages around the wound. still it failed to heal.
time runs loose. as our leashes give chase.
we're cardboard. left out in the rain. destroyed by circumstance.
blood chases the symptoms. trust ignores the cause.
while our bodies search for a cure.
Post a Comment