belle's rose, wilting one petal at a time
the creation of adam, gods hand yet to touch yours
you're 0.8 seconds away
from descrying the back of their head disappear into the distance
one last time; one heartbeat away
the inception of an everlasting process; the decay.

languished simply, because of the life left within
shoulders slouched, so as to crease what's in between
you let out a sigh
struggling to pick broken shards off the austere snow;
blotching blood stains so diluted by what your eyes let go
you realize what's so undoubtedly you; an overflow.

an overflow of musing so raw, each drop a crystallized sapphire kernel
burgeoning beanstalk in the hearts of every passerby
all led to the glasshouses you once vowed to unfalteringly stand by the refracting light dilating naked memories; an open invitation to pry
you lack distrust that things could ever go awry; they do.

stubborn; you never learn;
you live in denial, waiting for their return
your presence incomplete; the twinkle in your eyes masking your defeat
your glasshouses broken and beat; slow deplete
repeat repeat repeat

you fight shy of taking up space
last row corner seat, you almost always leave without a trace
your voice too mild to return an echo, your soul leaking too gentle to show
you long for warmth, yet you leave behind nothing to embrace. you know.

a paradox on your own; you're a daunting dilemma
you can love into thin air, hushed or acapella
your burning eternal, yet you soothe all fire
hollowing for your world, but there's nothing you desire

your heart's been plucked from the souls you've warmed
only to be left astray in the cold
yet you pick the pieces less frozen and hand it over for them to hold

obscure; oblivious, and obedient
to everyone but your own
you're fighting battles; for everywhere but home

withering and drifting
brittle dust in the breeze

worn out to the extreme
bittersweet; free

potpourri

p o t p o u r r i