can't stop the shaking in my hands
as you lift the broken wings
of my helpless words to the sky,
setting them free against the bloody
painted dawn.
wind clutches at my
throat, strong as your
hands; tears your name
loose from my voice
leaving only a desperate,
hysterical howl in the open
skies. No way to recognize this
as human behavior. No way to rationalize this as human thought.
skin comes apart at the edges
to reveal horrible truth and a
small, singular frailty,
glass and sharp edges always a moment
away from shattering.
clouds steal in-
obscure the dawn-
a last second of terror.
Author notes
Eh. Trying to just *write*. Sorry if you don't like my lack of capitalization. its just my style.
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