Sad Labels:
dark poetry
,
sad poetry
the cold told us its name. syllables of who we were.
the end came in chokes. the fist of tomorrow clenched tightly around our necks. as all our words betrayed us.
time growled and spit from inside its cage. the key hot against our skin.
we chased that line against the horizon. the eternal puzzle of destination.
gathering our lies. all the currency of desire.
selling our staircases. to wolves and witches.
waiting patiently.
knowing the fuse is already lit.