Somehow, it ended up that I was split.
Human instincts dissolved in gray sunshine,
caught in frigid, sporadic light brights.
Every word spoken was whip-lashed back
and beaten until give reason -
(if there was any reason at all).
His eyes, perhaps they saw mine.
Rib cage bones breaking, every sound
materialized in those green hues.
Underneath those soft lips, though,
was a microphone and a headset;
sketched like wild fire on pre-cut sheets
and fed through silver chrome machines.
Those eyes, multimillion framework,
seized to illuminate the broken shades
captured on the TV screen.
Gold trophy winner
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