Monday 9/10/2018 11:05:00 PM

it was quiet as the sky began to fall. it was easy to run as the distance began to add up. flesh fell away as memory conceded. parables of skin easily accumulating in the folds of our panic.

i stopped waiting. the flood receded. i stopped asking. the questions remained.

we were close, but remained strangers. until the string finally snapped. and the balloon drifted away. the numbers shouting. the colors raging. as we spent our last few miles on leaving.

the swaying bridges. the narrow roads. permanent chapters in temporary flesh.

we honed the blades. we owned the weapons. charming the sharp edges. with old scars and ragged stitches.

we were ready to be cut. hungry to break. we were eager to fall. until we found out how
high it was.

0 comments:


| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2018. All Rights Reserved.