My veins like glass shards
   itch beneath a memory
of aging brackish memories.


I couldn't lift my arms for they
fell like a breathless moment
                                 in a forest of regrets.  
    
                     No one heard them descend,
they just bled sap slowly, till all was hollow.

And all that was left was a time that fell,
                                      and the cuts where silent.

I was a moment standing in grandeur,
        but beneath it didn't really matter
                             I
                         was a hollow moment,
crumbling beneath life's weight.