I. Break down

Break out

break into tiny pieces with no chance of clean resurrection

So many ways to break

he's not sure

which one he'll (choose?)

II. She hasn't a hope

not one dream

doused aspirations

for these blasted days,

weeks

how long will this last?

Give me mirrors,

fire

break through the glass,

across the wall

stains.

III. Come here, my love

his lips lie

his eyes are blasphemies,

fear me

Seconds seem longer

breaths seem shorter

so

stop

breathing

VI. Force it,

fake it

change the tempo

of this sick dance,

change the beat

change the plan,

change your mind

and grab the knife in the middle of the night

take one

V. he plays a risky game,

one where he isn't the one under fire,

but she, so soft, so breakable,

(could? Would?) take the bullets

one

two

three

riddled, like months she's spent wondering

how

long

will

this

last?

____

A/N: She's alive! I'm on a writing spree today, and I would simply love it if you fed my ego with some lovely, long reviews, telling me that I'm terrible, wonderful, or anything in between.

As a side note, these poems give my word processor a heart attack, all those grammar lines! It's quite the tragedy.