In a styrofoam cup,
I hold the ashes
of a life long ago
where truth was easy
and so was love.
My body is
a patchwork
of emotional scars
folded between
pages made of
always and forever
and I wish I had enough
inner strength
to eclipse my demons
and hold on
to the moment
where we loved
instead of lost.
But those pieces of dark,
they will break me
until I am
nothing more than
a pile of bones,
baked white against
the bitter sky.


Twitter mash up precedes. πŸ™‚


6 thoughts on “Dark

    • I’ve never read one of these aloud. I wrote one for a student and presented it at his awards banquet, but these are personal. Plus, no one knows I write them. Haha! I wonder how they sound. It’s cool to know you read it that way. πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚


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