Soft spoken voices
Fall upon these rooftops,
Soak these shoes and
Sprinkle this sweatshirt.
Like the tears you wept
When we began our bow,
(I was always clumsy with goodbyes,)
Or maybe the ones that streamed from
These own hazel spheres
As these nerves burst aflame and
These lungs collapsed beneath the pressure.
Satin stitched gauze laid over these
A scrim of feelings that only half exist.
(Or at least that's what I'd like to believe-
It'd be much safer that way, at least.)
Yet these needles rain just like your tears,
Piercing this mind, this heart redundantly,
Bee sting bumps of precious poison that
Bleed for days and scar for life.