I'm asphyxiating within your words,
a collage of silhouettes that are weak in form.
For when tears bleach their meaning all that
is seen is the transparently of your fragility.

But linages of secluded rooms that collect
all the poisons of my verses, everyone a
torment that outlines the concussions of
what my mind collects in a penny jar.

If I dropped every essence of you within
an outline of ripples, could you breath in
the shores of my anger, as I lay you silently
on the embankment of shadows of loneliness.