the darkness works like an engine. propelling us forward though we're unwilling. the darkness stains us. bleeding irrevocably into our skin.
it can't be washed away. it can't be cleansed.
we're actors in a play written by strangers. we've forgotten all our lines. and the curtain has risen.
we love because we must. doesn't matter if it makes a difference.
the voices scatter. the promises expire. pain our only tether in the deepening abyss.
there are no names. no faces. just the strangle of time. as the truth wakes us up.
we stab at the winter. as the cold overcomes us.
still, we're the only ones who bleed.
Monday
2/15/2021 11:05:00 PM
| Life Poems |