avec la lune

[lesorignaux]

i raised my hand to find yours. found air instead. absence; a ghost, that shows no signs of pain and contently dances alone. i turned and expected to see those doe eyes but only caught glimpses of greyness that won't leave. charcoal smoke that chokes me and all the while it insists i'm only half what i once was. i wake up to the moon shining in through my blinds. almost too bright.

the rough.
the pull.
the chase.
the fall.
i scraped my knee and broke my wrist and blackened my eye running and falling for the past.