Your bleeding ink splits me soft, a feather, a cold a night, a sweat. Write me a letter, words torn, unraveling to forget, tears worn flying into a white page where we once met.

I see
I hear
I feel
Nothing.

I feel
I hear
I see
A black hole.

Slowly

The body, slowly breathing, slowly breaking, slowly. It caves inward into bones, dust, worms, rust. Fine lines to frowns. Laugh lines to crowns. Lost and slowly breaking, slowly.