in an empty room,
i bleed my soul into another
vague possibility
the buttermilk skies
paint a beautiful scene while
the sleepy sun gleams one last time
into this sacrificial prison
confusion swells while
binding me to my most distant
haunting moment:
the night
she lifted the veil from my
fragmented heart.
shadows
make an effort to silence
the echo and yet,
it looms undyingly of consent
i sense i've now become
what i feared the most
vacant.
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1 comment:
Although I find this hauntingly sad, the imagery is amazing.
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