these crisscrossing streets
were once ours, our screaming
neon, the dazzling infinite
lights but time
she weaved
herself between
the clench of my fist
in the shape of his
absence, that grows,
grows
blood only
multiplies while we
splutter, incoherent
with the clarity -
your heart,
it does not beat
for me anymore.
(A.H.Z)
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 9:31 PM UTC
these crisscrossing streets
were once ours, our screaming
neon, the dazzling infinite
lights but time
she weaved
herself between
the clench of my fist
in the shape of his
absence, that grows,
grows
blood only
multiplies while we
splutter, incoherent
with the clarity -
your heart,
it does not beat
for me anymore.
(A.H.Z)
