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.


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.


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.


May 12, 2011
11:48 pm
Brittany Rose


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s