for tomorrow. pt 2

scrawled 2.23.2009 by miss.abi | E-mail this post

aka - how the end begins.
the process of extraction series.
*some lines have been pulled from older discarded pieces.

Perpetual footpaths
tread 'cross broken glass and shattered dreams;
how many times must we rake across coals
this dying carcass of an ill-fated love scene?

For too long
have days fallen and risen,
slave to circadian rhythms of your nocturnal heart.
My skin grows sallow in the shadows;
albino wrists bleeding tears,
open veins into open books.
You read me through clouded eyes,
rose-colored cataracts
tingeing the face of our truth:

These walls are closing in.

Hairline fractures in cracked foundations;
feet straddling doorways of forever.
I fell asleep on the front porch,
left the light on for your return,
and awoke to darkness
once again.

These walls are closing in.

Skeletons dancing in the windows,
closet door left open in haste.
You dressed too fast this morning,
forgot the heart for your sleeve.
Remembered how you liked to leave...

...me hanging

by nooses
when time grows too hard to hold onto.

Fingers brittle and broken.
Words as tombs,
turned empty and cold,
holding the bones of what
we had dared to begin.

Bury my heart in the front yard.
Kiss my gravestone
with lips too tight to speak.
I'm sick of this
myth of Sisyphus,
shoulders too weak
to carry the rocks up hills
again.

Broken knees bending
back
bowing to emotions
that leave me dizzy.
I'd rather be empty.
Belly no longer full
from feasting on false promises
...of tomorrow.

Leave me now, to mourn the future.
My picture, fading;
words, dissipating into yesterdays.
Visit my grave and remember,
love dies long before
it is buried.