I hear the clock, I hear your breath.
I hear the birds, unbound by time.
The cars go by on the one-way street
All headed to the same place (somewhere far).
I hear my thoughts.
I hear the wind.
(I wonder if they are the same).
I wish to breathe, to remain still,
But the future whispers impatiently my name.
Freshly painted walls echo
The sounds of thunder inside
A home for others,
Maybe also me.
a medical condition
where blood clot formation is reduced, resulting in:
a tendency to bleed after minor trauma
I wonder if the silence between us
is shared or
plastered onto our collective togetherness
like a sharp wallpaper that
seems to only give you paper cuts
that won’t stop bleeding.
Is it possible to stop remembering the hurt, already?
Stop bleeding, already.
Dizzy. Hypovolemic shock