We ran from the flames,
blue lights bright in the distance,
you held my hand tighter and half dragged me across the busy streets.
I could tell from the look in your eyes
that the plan was failing, collapsing, around us.
This was supposed to be routine,
nothing compared to what we still had to do.
But a shot was fired, piercing the night.
Your best friend's screams echoed in the alleyway,
I had to pull you away from the bleeding corpse of a very good man.
YOU ARE READING
Collapsing
PoetryWe charted stars when you were sober, and counted them when you were drunk. We bottled galaxies, and kissed with a passion to rival the sun.
