We're ripping with silence
woven through our tar veined cardboard skin,
falling falling falling apart
because our scars are unseen
and all our lost battles are faded
and distant.
They don't matter
because it was all in the past.
Standing before our unhealed eyes
is a lonely avenue
littered with forgotten memories
because all our past
is a constant hue of gray almost alive,
almost tangible so potent
that it fissures our bones
so deep that we unhinge,
falling into incomplete remnants
of what we once were.
You can't help that your desires are inhuman.
I'll fit my hand into the imprint of yours
and tell you that it's okay
if you don't want to be human anymore
because I know it is hard.
But I'm your tether
anchoring you because you can't see,
that the higher you fly
the harder will you fall.
And I can't let you break
because I promised once
that I'd be there when you fail
to stand straight.
I never told you the truth
that I wouldn't be able to see
the tears shining in your eyes
with an unrevealed anguish.
Someday maybe I'd tell you
how I'd want to die.
I want to die when you're with me
because you're the last face I want to see
before I fall into the void. This time for ever.  
I want to die with your pale moonhands
tucked in my trembling fingers.