extinguished.
the air in your lungs – exhaled –
it makes a quick turn
spirals and vanishes
light becomes dark
young becomes old
the smell of ash and earth
and carbon beginnings
gone to the ceiling
in a birthday wish sparking
through grey wrinkles.
Category Archives: self
the girl to dust
will “they” say
the calm is what
killed her?
was the quiet lack
what turned the
blood to sludge
the brain to mush…
what turned
the girl to dust?
alone on a Friday night
only I
notice wind along the pink
sunset lining the clouds
only I
am audience to silver fish
dancing to the feel of dusk
only I
watch people’s legs walking
talking, so full of plans
only I
realize that silence is
beautiful in its impossiblity.
Only I.