in a space of collection stood
bright walls with wooden clocks
and jumbled records, on white carpet
with citrus candles, below
silk scarves and
photos of the sky.

But,
bland candles
next to unread books
and sterile walls, which towered
broken clocks and thinning fabric.
This silent space, was
built by a deliberate, empty hand

open mishaps
of hurried instance
slip
into eternity's lips
now folded
from rearranging shifts

a word of  advice
don't take it from strangers

i am immune.

a blackened burn
white as mist
shattered bones learn
they resist
a swelled bruise
                   shifts

my mind
remains
               blind
to time's chains

her words
were rainbow birds
chirping light
and i was dazzled

inside, i find feathers
detatched and *****
blackened
without body

like
her rattled, twisted words
taken from the world
wasted
on open and unknowing skies

and i listen to the lies

before,
there were nice things
and i was sure
that it was sufficient
why wasn't it?

today,
i was surrounded
by nice things
and no one came
just me
and then she left.