this dent remains on the curvature of my mind.
it forms now
like cracked marble
like dinorwig after a storm
the winds stop changing direction now
the winds just blow fiercely now
it is the first time since a long time
that i have fallen asleep in freefall
down this bottomless pit.
i am bored of pain
again.
she looks at me
from the parquet floor where her decisions
lay in brushstrokes of blood
my sixteen year old dying self
and she asks
if i can live with myself?
so i stare
through her skin and emptying vessels
grabbing her legally bound thoughts
and i scream
yes i fucking can,
but can you?
