Somedays, we are empty and open
To the strech of our paper veins

              We lay here, good as dead and cold
               Till we precipitate a foreseeable
               Anomaly, coming this way

I remember every word,
spoken like a ghost
Hawking my brightness
with mystique or just paranoia
Of not giving in

                But remember again the full
                extent
                Tears are feeling to come, as I
                wrench some

Feeling of abstinence, vocal chords stretched to a merciless extend,
just in my head

                 Your open wounds dressed so
                 pretty, almost made me forgive
                 you

          And forget how large forever is