slivers, splinters, failing meaning
catch it, spinning out into the stars
bleeding rags fine red droplets
shredded hands, hopes, hearts
I can't hold on, hold out, hold a good thought
bind the wound
tight and tenderly
as blood drips through your fingers
touching raw eroding senses
with gentle rain, dripping,
obscuring the view
I would curl up into destiny,
locking my lacerations
in dreams of false skins,
tightening, holding fast to the edges.
I would fall immortally into space,
I would lock my dreams in pasteboard boxes,
too tight for mortal breath.
the words whirl around, whirl around, whirl
like scattered bits of paper tears
I would hide in the deepest hold and
keep to life slowly seeping through.
but the hunger calls
it growls and jumps in fits to battle