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1/14/2011

I am a crumbling, powdering disease.
I hallucinate the things you say
prancing demons, distorting my ageless glass.
I cover my face with a silk veil
creating with tight-shut eyes
because it's better if you don't look back.
They are pouring molten-
Plucking-
Tugging-
Shredding-
They whisper things, sticky caramel
honey sick-sweet with lies
and refactions
and warping.
My little box was always solid, in the end...
... Though, surprisingly brittle, don't you think?

1 comment:

Bella said...

You break my heart. You're so beautiful.
x