glass pieces beneath your feet,
while I watch you tattoo the world with your pain.
Empty eyes stare from shattered frames,
as they drift by.
I’ve carved my love all over the world
hoping you’d chance by
and remember why you loved me.
Tattooed walls and pain lying naked in the street.
Can you hear her calling?
Can you see her writing her agony on the walls?
These ghost rooms reach out,
beckon with art we can’t see, words we don’t understand,
crying with voices we can’t hear.
Again, I couldn’t make up my mind for Three Line Thursday, so here are all my attempts. I submitted the last one. Which one do you like best?