everything goes if we just let it,
even our universe.
when the light at the edge of it dies out,
as if watching a guillotine strike down,
and a glimpse of a memory, elsewhere,
so far from all we've ever known,
feels like home.
but the dawn is already bleeding red
and the answers have all but disappeared,
and this fleeting moment is all we have
before the last shadow falls;
everything goes.

a paradigm of solitude,
a monotone reprise.
she's desperate for a little break
to stop and shut her eyes.
a symphony of tragedy,
a prayer in disguise.
she walks her path so stoically,
but all their hymns are lies.
a disbelieving audience,
a concert of goodbyes.
she's desperate for a little break
to stop and shut her eyes.

Stroll with me under the trees
to where the old road bends,
at the hanging sycamores
then walk away
beyond my sight
for I cannot follow
do not turn back,
you have many miles to go
and new companions to meet
I will wait here, in the shade
tired feet need to rest
visit me now and again
when the leaves fall
but only in memory
walk on

"What beautiful flowers!"
Unaware of how much death & decay took place under the soil, right below.
Oblivious to the pain.

The speaker was a girl with long black hair, walking with another, a person with brown and golden hair, at the base of the hill with a weathered grave on top.

She smelled the fragrant jasmines & plucked off a handful to decorate her hair, now walking away down the hill.
Her companion lingers at the top, gazing at the gleaming white petals, contrasting with shiny ivory.

"Come down!" She calls. But the blonde has seen the engraved rock, secluded by growing vines. They decide to have a moment of silence.

The black haired girl looks back, then rolls her eyes before abandoning them.

The person left standing next reads the epitaph,
Their sunkissed, freckled face turning into gloom.

"Now that I've seen you, I won't let you be alone."

She gently kisses the keen flowers that are curious about her words.
Then turns to lay and nap in the grass and foliage for hours.

Somewhere between ripe and rotting, I will love me again

Wear my flesh like rind and reclaim my sweetness


I am not dying yet, but I am not living         and I am thirsty

For days, dazed and drugged on dirt’s divinity, brown knees


Nestled under the willow tree, the sun promises to purify me

Before the night swallows it whole, and regurgitates it tomorrow.


Somewhere between ripe and rotting, I will shatter my shame

Shed my sin, kiss palm to palm and nail a cross above my bed


Rid myself of impiety and feel what it feels to be clean.

I will walk the veins of the forests and trail the spines of the hills


Forage for berries and fall stupidly in love, over and over and over

With the art of existence and one day I will mean it when I say


I want to live. I want to live. I want to live. I want to live.

She had of the prettiest smiles I’ve ever seen
It felt like a reflection of all things bright
As if the world had no darkness, only light
I never seen anything so serene

I was late to lunch today
She had already taken a seat in a corner booth
By the look on her face, she couldn’t hide the truth
Yet she didn’t know what words to say

Her eyes glisten when she talked
It seemed the nervous feelings were gone
And so, the feelings continue to feed on
With feelings of love now locked

I remember a time like that, to be brave
She reminded me of you and your glow
He reminded me of myself, before you had to go
For I wish there was more than flowers on a grave