but the world is smiling haphazardly today, teeth and stones and hurricanes sung along, folklore and wisps of a dwindling pipe dream.
you protest at the unrelenting boredom building a home out of your aching skin; the tinge of fear when a truck barrels past you into the innocuous darkness, like salt and tiramisu, like broken streetlights glaring at you.
i think you think too much, feel too much. two sides and a coin, empty clouds and umbrellas, perhaps i understand this grief you converse with, this ghost whispering over your shoulder as i try to help. i try. i try.
frail, old bones and childish grins, nooses on ancient trees coaxing you closer; the gingerbread man is on fire.
you lose your guilt in fragments, tombstones wailing, stonehenge and concrete perching on your window-sill; you nearly give in. maybe you wanted to. maybe it would've been for the best.
hourglass; but the clock cries. there isn't any time left.
a requiem for the people who will leave my life very soon.