the ghost of a tear stains your face
a smile washed with streaks of sorrow
thinking of a yesterday, when she was here still.
Month: August 2017
Not quiet awake yet
decay
I didn’t know your heart was broken. Didn’t know it wheezed. Falling at my finger tips, crumble into grey.
Slate
Inside I sit, desk piled high with papers, I don’t want to read, don’t want to see, don’t want at all. I stare solemnly, watch slate skies dissolve. Like Newtons cradle the rain falls in rhythm. Soft ball bearings knocking at the door. I welcome the distraction. Watch the rain run, making decisions, changing it’s course. How I wish I could change this. Change what happened. Change us.
2 minutes
White cup waiting. Grey steam gathering. Whirling clouds sting your eyes. Tears falling. Whistle screaming. Piercing the silence of an empty home.