With a face stained with black streaks of pain depression
the demons are clutter through the smudged mascara
exhaustion clogs my lungs and shallow breaths release
tender gasps wail as tears flow







silently

down my cheeks layered with the
sorrowful crimes of darkness
without the warmth of your touch
I would sink through the surfaces
that stabilize my wounded body as

it tries to stand on its own

as though I would fall entirely
through the holes trapped
by a echoing pain
pressing upon the entire nature
of a destructive darkness
my palms bent and shaken
a touch of hope nurtures my
broken bones lifted gracefully from
the discomfort of depression.
As a halo rose
flailing above your head to match
the blonde stands of hair. My arms crave
another’s.