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.
