Still

The narrow path between these strangers was a tightrope

And every grazing shoulder was a sweeping gale

My gaze fell like my feet did

And I could feel the emptiness between my icicle fingers

The air was as sharp as the pain in my chest

And my cheeks were stained like my memories were

Their profiles shuffled past like a deck of cards

And their images fluttered like broken butterfly wings

 

Where were you?

 

Everything was white–

Day caught on the frames and forms

But my soul had not caught up with the dawn

My heart was still pinned to the frozen hope of you

 


 

Gerald said this reminded him of Glassy Sky from Tokyo Ghoul, LOL.

I wrote this about a month or two ago, but it was seriously underdeveloped for a time. But my unfinished poems were sort of building up and I wanted to at least have one less poem that felt unresolved (I’m the type of person who can get restless without a sense of completion). So here~

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