fall turns to winter
a heartbeat
is there?
was there?
will there be?
dusty branches fall away
leaving the bark to peel and fade
to white
white like black
a shade
translucent, opaque, quiet, alone, hiding from what makes them run
your withered wings
you can’t fly
you can’t get away from Why,
get past Why
is it all you ask, Why?
the wind spins past your outstretched fingers, rustling though the dead feathers on your back
humming
ash falls like snow
a black and white world
for granted, did you take it?
winter turns to spring
but flowers don’t grow here, not anymore
isn’t it funny how a broken clock
still ticks
even after time has stopped?
your eyes don’t blink
and your tears have frozen
to your fingers, cheeks
the cold ground you’ve lain on
stuck in a moment
of decaying emotion
years old
humming
like the wind
an undercurrent
too deep to find, buried far too deep into your
past
present
future
but you don’t have a future
you can’t fly