My words are like,

Candles wavering on a silent night.

A flame withering from a push of breath.

A perfect sigh under the blankets that covers the silhouette of the moon.

My eyes,

create the raindrops that knocks on the windows.

Pouring needles on my rooftop,

Only to step over them the next morning.

While dragging my corpse to the next location,

I only wait in glee for the day where

The sound of an ignition buries the gasoline that never started.

-CMCrain




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