Tick-tock,
Eyes—back alleys,
A patch on the elbow whines and rallies.
Snort-snap,
Sky—hoarfrost,
Melted in coffee and claws half-crossed.
Tap-tap,
Parquet and rags,
Hop-hop,
And back to the crags—
A heart, like a ball, tiny and shy,
Bending, fleeting, too scared to fly.

Trust takes years to build, seconds to break, and forever to repair.

the keyboard speaks
and I am silent
but we are joined
at the fingertips.

i watched today,
as unicef came,
and asked to speak with my parents,
i hid away as the adults conversed,
and sat back down to dinner,
their conversation was abrupt,
halted by a shut door,
and an exhale of annoyance,
their rant stuck to me,
and I thought,
as they complained,
-at least they're trying.

I keep realizing that I'm not living.
And every time I realize that,
I realize that I die a little bit more.
And realizing that kills me