Aug 13, 2012 09:42
coated in salt
like pistachios
sting the cut, keep
it fresh, i am
defensive walls and
broken dreams
i barely breathe
and when i attempt
to do the unthinkable,
i fall and scrape my knees
(the breaking is voiceless,
except in my head
where the scream is
wild animal)
and wishful thinking
is fairytale with
no happy ending.
poetry