down my back into
the abyss of spinal
theories and third eye
procrastination. i met
your prelude after i
died daily. i die daily
i die daily. i told you that.
where hidden rainbows
were shy, black scales were
resting perfectly on my
paragraph torso. i am paralyzed
with grief and tormented by
by my scars. wounded by
the bruises your silent
gaze burned into my
spirit but i flourished
without this cocooned
reality.
remember the time we
opened our hearts and closed
our thoughts and said that the
space between us died?
well i wish it were true.
look at me; find me once
more so that time can finally
pass down my empty throat.
