Parchment frayed, edge crumbled to silky ash.
A single candle’s flicker caught dancing
to whispers from dust crackling their secrets.

The window sweats, powdered by evening snow.
Her droplets quench the thirst of the rotted floor.
A mouse scurries, elated for its flow.

Etched in the corner, a rope swings freely.
Held together by habit above all.
Beneath it rests nothing more than shade.

Softly spoken secrets, scattered and stained.
A thorn’s thoughtful gaze casting its judgment.
There is no moral here left to be gained.
She may try, but no more shall she repent.

Seconds, minutes, brushstrokes drawing the dawn.
Each moment wasted by her hesitance.
“What does it all mean? Is it truly gone?
Or perhaps it’s just cheap happenstance.”

A facsimile. Mere memories of you.
She blinks her eyes, and greets the morning dew.

Pockets greased with the blood of the displaced.
A rotund belly fed by their lost meals.
His echoed demands for equality
squashed beneath his own shining leather boot.

Play in the mud rub dirt in that old scab.
Let the rainwater wash it all away again.
It's okay to dance; feel the wind in your breath.
Plaster that smile, glue on that grin.
Trust me, it'll purge us of all our sin.

Have yourself a wonderful little life.

The ash of a putrid cigarette's smoke
stained the air, yellowed pockmarks upon its flesh.

A home kept warm by cancer and rats,
their sighs a chorus within the rafters.

An unloved daughter silently brushed her hair.
Do you ever wonder, was she here or there?

In a world so vast, it's painfully small.
There is no peace when the cycle carries on.

The ebb and flow of de-

Enough. We're merely wasting your time
Return to bed. Soon enough the sun shall rise.

Chapped lips bleed, dripping down her marble skin.
Staining the square as she takes one last drag.

Across the way a young man's lost within,
wandering the catacomb of her gaze.

Moonlight bathes her spirit, purging its sin.
Though it's useless, for she rests in its shade.

The wall's eyes trace what remains of his grin,
knowing in this moment, they dare not blink.

His tongue grows cold and his skin paper thin,
while his lead-filled eyelids chain him to dirt.

Chapped lips bleed, dripping down her marble skin,
staining the square as she takes one last drag.