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my breaths bloom white roses that wither when their fingertips meet my lips its thorns scraping my skin they are more jaded than a sigh my skin is more faded than the windows washed with rain but not faded enough for me to wash like waves against the beaches of cerulean abluvion
my stepmother's voice rings in my ears and together with my demons they chant a chorus from hell
together, my stepmother and me, we watched on the edge of the cliff as i fell
the rain slips down the window panes... the rain slips down the window panes... the rain slips down the window panes... the rain slips down the window panes... the rain slips down the window panes...
