Fresh cuts


And sometimes, even the act of loving self seems impossible.

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His choice is love

Dipped in darkness slipped through the cracks, stairs creek,light reflected off screens begins to snatch the eyes, smother the soul.
Before hands touch, before spirits are crushed underneath foot.light signals are picked up.Feet shuffle to bed under sheetsto wrap temptation with love.

60 Seconds

Roses rolled up in closed fists
Fitting for another quiet dinner,
The menu for apologies.
Torn patterns of remorse.

We both remember what we fought for
We both remember times when
War made sense.
Tonight we watch tears fall in vain.

We’ve come to a place unfamiliar
To both of us,
All the while spectators boast
About how far we’ve come.