3-4

3:00am
the world is dead. i smell freshly baked bread but no one here is baking.
thoughts surround my heart with pickaxes.
they want in and at this time there’s little strength to close the drawbridge.
blood pours from eyes and it’s not clear if I’m being hollowed in dream.
one thought makes it’s way in and screams to wake me, to tell me it’s not me.
it’s not me that was picked.
blood fills my brain as the others breach the drawbridge.
the keeper has died.
water seeps out of my ears as the castle crumbles into the ocean.
jumping from a window of imaginings, i free fall without reaching up for help.
without screaming, his name is written on my lips with the same blood that poured from my eyes.
i’m a fool for building sand castles in the sky without securing a life raft to save our hearts from drowning.
but only i have jumped and only i will drown.
a plane lands safely to remind i’m neither lover or partner.
4:00am
i’m awake, only to realize i am dead.


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