"I piled countless blades on the table
And asked her to pick out the dull one."
I could not understand
the way her hands bled
over the carpet.
Her heart leaked a chemical-red
like oil spills
as she came to terms
with the dead.
A dried up parchment,
crumbled to pieces
like specs on the floor.
We can play connect*the*dots
to re-link it whole.
But the lines
are imaginary...
A dead fish
has polluted an entire ocean.
And emotions have dwindled
to pebbled ripples
in a random breeze.
I long for the days
of rope tied around giant stones
and thrown down as anchors
in hopes that neither the sea nor the ship
would be alone...
...when all was solidified
and TRUST wasn't deemed a steel beam,
benT, RUSTed
and fake...
...when all was spelled out
and LOVE wasn't merely an acronym
for a mistake:
Loss Of Vision Entirely...
*teaws*