was it weak to
not feel it
fully?

backing away
slowly..

have we known the
tragic tone

of whispers like melted
magic

on the lips of
the angelic,

freed from panic-
clear child
mind

no storm cloud to
fade behind.

binging
on nostalgia,

headlights flicker through
spun sugar
fog

of events recalled
wrong,

coated in
cotton,

caramelized to
the teeth,

face down in
powder

sweet breath
masking
grief.

must we talk this
through the
roof
..

hangs heaven ready
to cave in
..

my brain’s not to
be trusted
true

the heart’s become
the only
part

worth shielding midst
collapse

still beating
though much slower

in this taped off
house of
rats.