sinking down sore to the emptied out space below
pulsing pushing more of the light away with no hope
sway a little to comfort the loss from within
who knows how many pieces are left to go,
who knows if these pieces will grow.
crisp fresh skin, eclipsing the soakedful dark
stinging blood pours down the opened door
sway, sway again let the comfort in before you reach the floor.
who knows where this will end or if it will
who knows if the darkness will flow or if the light will
who knows?, who knows.
We often breakdown pieces every time, it is often too painful to speak about it.
We don’t know if we will come back from the darkness in the corners of our lives or if there will ever be happiness again felt.
But who knows? No one truly knows. But I keep continuing to fight to keep the light in.