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(no subject)
this is it and isn't
the predictability in mystery
endless obscurities
that leave the answers
to be questioned
how the maze becomes
the path of the virtuous

the gone has come
they found the dark way in
you can see the scars
they wear for warmth
they asked to me to write of them
to brighten their shame
of devastated love erased
through desperate choices

these bleeding legs
a burning stand of apathy
torch the fields that feed
while the smoke screens the meaning
for the discerning dead to see
and regret the feeling
evaporated are the fading consolations
the truths diluted by assumption
and the blood you sold
to bind us both
how they carry and flutter
like dying moths of summer

the fall will fare
and rain the leaves
to hide what's left to grow
a coat of decaying procrastination
the best dress for
wordless gravestones
made of coals and ash
and worthless goals

then winter waits
to hibernate the fallen hopes
on sickened hearts
of nurtured afflictions
i choke on the clouds
when you fail to speak
the air that i breathe
is the space between your teeth
the same that i see
when your exhale would freeze
a blinding silence of hueless snow

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Every time, you melt me.

i can't wait to read day 2 of you

(Deleted comment)
(Deleted comment)
miss you too. and me. we gotta catch up some time soon. i hope all is well around you

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