melting downstream time is slipping between my fingers like sand on a dried and forgotten beach. fine silt under my nails as i claw for memory.

wipe my soul clean of your touch. scrub the cells you know from the surface and within. the scars remain but there you go. out the sliding glass door eternally one foot out of my life in slow motion. i cant bear to suffer alone. im drowning.

I can't save him

I keep seeing my brother's body in a burnt up pile of bricks and debris. His blonde hair is dirtied by the falling ash. It's a metaphor of course, but all the same I can't stop feeling his weight as he takes his last breath. I press my lips to his in attempt to save his life, but its too late. Metaphor or not, either way he is gone.

its the same here and i still feel your lingering touch. its the same here and the whispers are coming back. its the same here and i wish it wasn’t

its doesn’t go away ever, does it?