On the door, a sign, it read,
‘Peace is out.’
Maybe out for a stroll.
Inconsiderate most of the time.
Out when needed the most, like a **** micromanager.
Out in hours fogged with shadows.

The storm cloud is inside,
scraping her deadly bolts
against the wall.
Her wispy gown stretched
lifeless and grey in all directions,
her breath seeps deep down
the bones.

Still you smiled,
but I sense the bottomlessness
in the depths of your hollow eyes.
I can hear you ticking,
the sludge was alight
with millions of pieces of you.
Still you smiled
as you unfurled your
brittle fingers and wrapped
it around my shuddering doubt.
Even in your darkness
you found light.

“Peace will be returning soon,”
You said.