With split wrists & a frail frame I search for God in this endless sea of white. Feeling the sun on occasion. Holding her hand & she's sparing me the pain. Feeling lighter. Moving closer to that cherished throne. Wrapping wrists & I feel smarter. There was a day when I was happy. It's still here. Your picture still rests there & we'll start over. Making a mistake. I feel her warmth. Her laughing lips. Her potent ears. Her hair shines through the glass. I tap & she sees me. This time, seeing me. No more gazes.


So why does it always seem, that when I bleed, such weight is lifted?

Grind your lips, save yourself from total atrophy.