Oh love - raise your arms up to the stars. Feel your brittle bones crack and splinter, snap and burn, catch aflame in the dying light. Your shirt rides up, a knight's horse pounding valiantly, scaling the side of a storm-slick mountain. Feel the wind card through your damp hair, blowing softly upon your scalp with puffs of fading breath.
Oh love - focus your attention inwards now. Feel your heartbeat pound and drum, skip and stutter, fade in the solitude of flesh and sinew. Your eyelids slide, crawling along drying eyes the weight of bowling balls, drawing in the darkness. Feel your breaths slow, growing more and more shallow distant the longer you grip the frail branch.
Oh love - I'm so sorry.
The mind is the last to go.
YOU ARE READING
Twisted Dreams
PoetryA collection of short stories, poems, and half-written ramblings. ~•°•°-----------------------------------《☆》 dream \ ˈdrēm \ 1 : a series of thoughts, visions, or feelings that happen during sleep ~•°•°-----------------------------------《☆》 night·m...
