Zemotion
I press the water
From my veins
These unshed tears
Will not dilute me.
Mourning settles into
Vanishing dreams.
Though clumsy
The swing is true,
An axe falling helter-skelter
Through a glass moon.
Whenever your ghost lands
I will listen.
–
Your name shatters
At my diaries’ precipice.
Though your utter mention
Rubs me raw,
I will not relinquish the sky,
These consequences,
The price of breathing
In a room ten sizes too small.
For
mindlovemisery 