thinking about myself

 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?




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