Brick on her toes. The vanity of choices. Flaunting the coalescence of gravity. How far have I walked. Am I even close. To where I want to be. The dilemma. Choices. Which blade to use. Which throat to slit.
The circumference of her skin betraying. The perimeter of her stare. Small things. The curdle of her smile as he slithers inside. The echo of the corridor as she tries to decide. What empty is.
Stones on her eyelids. Decisions are rape. Forcing the skin away from the bones. Choices are the measurement of how much it hurts.
The door closes. The stairs envy our footsteps. Stubborn mathematicians with only zeroes left. The atom in its excitement forgets how fragile we are. Choices.
Splinters of skin. Finding the maps. But no treasure. Shallow cuts. Deciding. Who we'll be next.
Friday
11/26/2010 01:20:00 AM
Sad Labels:
retrospect
,
sad
| Life Poems |