I hit the ground, but it wasn’t slowly.

It was sudden and the absence of love had crushed my lungs.

You stole the air right out of me so that you could breathe.

Ripped me apart and claimed it would set me free.

And as I laid there with broken bones and bruised ribs, I realized that this is what falling out of love looks like.

There is no prize for winning fights
There are no spectators nor screams
There are just long nights and troubled dreams
We play by worldly rules
We are punished by the same
By them we are fools and dubbed insane
Outcasts we are and outcasts we'll be
Until one day we can show them why and bid them see.

fresh crumbles fluffing on a graded road
propelled  by the calcified touch of a heel-flipped flesh
looking through the cracked heel,
thank god, floating vapors calm the thirsty flensed skin