How do I eloquently introduce you to the demons in my bed? Should they join us at the table as we go to break our bread? Before I set their place, should I tell you how they’re fed? The living eats a little different than the dead. How do I elegantly articulate all the thoughts…
What would they say… these flowers on our graves? About the people we were- without knowing the waters we’d wade? Casting shadows over where we lay– as they long to taste intentions, of the words we’ll never say. Nourished by the envy seeping 6ft from where we fade. Caged to feel them flourish above the…
We are but strangers, disguised as temporary love. Cloaked even from ourselves as we enter the room with intentions uncertain and fall into quiet madness. For in this moment, we play at the peak of a pedestal we never knew we built. Marbled with projections of the holes we have within ourselves that we hide…
Aurora|Wrote 