Too Late

My mind, it wanders from the notions of your smile. Here I lay, shivering in the sand, with a heart that could go on for miles.

Broken.

I am left like an empty cavern, hidden in the rocks that are bound to fall; like a glorious competitor, I crawl bruised, back to the line where we heard our starting call.

Relentless.

There I find a pile of bones — worn and brittle to the touch — with a skull that your skin once encased. In my hand, your broken fingers lie as if there, they were never placed.

Hopeless.

May 12, 2011
11:48 pm
Brittany Rose

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