fine white light filtering through the slats of our minds crusty eyes and dry faces my imprint on your bedsheets you are fighting i can feel it what i would not give to take back that night to see you rise from your metal cuffs to see you see you breathe you hurt you anything at all besides this muted bloody silence
we are buried six feet under
an icy grave it avalanched before we could even cry for help
i am staring at my crystalized reflection s p l i t into a million windows breaking through the glass jaws tearing through my broken skin
YOU ARE READING
Unfinished
Poetry"i spent galaxies wondering if you would ever fight back" II The pieces of Ellis' life were clicking together perfectly when everything shattered, leaving him and his other half simply... Unfinished. Accidents happen, but sometimes the aftershock i...
