[shadow in the midst]: 279.poetry

hair mangled around her eyes
tears burning to the tip of her nose
the death of warmth; death of love
the flower unto which thorns arose


swaying to the beat of comfort
her breath singing a forgotten tune
the sentence of her ceaseless destruction
the fault of her life's ruin


hinges have broken, bridges have burned
life now rests on slings of cotton
a voice now testing its true revulsion
speaks to her, "have you forgotten?"