We collide. Blood, skin, bones white as ash, liquid as
the paint we use to pretend. We shatter. Hearts,
minds, souls dark as we allow, fluid in their ambiguity.
It’s the stopping that stays.
The jerking, the way your head turns into a boomerang,
knocking, flying, snapping, colliding into the glass like old friends.
I am here where you left me–
bloody splashes colliding
with white walls
We collide, blood, skin, bones white as ash,
liquid as the paint we use to pretend,
and we shatter, bloody splashes on white walls.
Again, Three Line Thursday put me to the test with this image. I wrote three and decided to combine some of those ideas into the last one which I submitted. Do you like the combination?