Tepid Fires

the names they call us by eventually fade. 
locked doors to empty rooms.

choices break like corners. 
sharpest as we get too close.

the years wander through us.
a pantomime of strangers in familiar faces.

the colors they use to change us tend to dull. 
little boxes with too much nothing inside. 

the distance devours our progress. 
a long series of small suicides. 

we count out loud. each piece. every particle. 
of our shattered puzzle.

meticulously building a world from what remains.