***** paws
Mud scorn
Hearts wrenched by faces who brought memories surfaced
pushed back into your head
So far they shouldn't be called memories anymore
Sorrowful songs
Clenched teeth
Lungs collapsed by impecable dreams
Words spoken in ways they only make sense in a state of sleep
Imaginary hands grasp round your throat  
Legs without bones
Sink down to the kitchen floor
Eyes dry from staring into the past trying to understand what you could've done
Should've done
To change the unchangeable events