The mind, a dormant stone

I miss our love!

Dirty eyes. They tell it all, the Lazarus, the Icarus, and the reluctance to bring my dead back to me.

Bite me until I am rabid, jumping from desks and tugging on strings. Pushing on walls and purging on carpets. Electric moan, surrender to the buttons flinging across my eyes. Brick-lipped, unbending, a carcass left to sow its own coffin. Organic fitting, sand makes it heavier, more likely to sink faster. Under the rain, the stars hesitate to glow.

and he is gone. nothing left but air fragments and earthly scents that can conjure him -- as physical as i can manifest him. my mind harbours more intense memories that cause great agony, because i do have a heart that remains, and it is pummeled into the pavement. cars run through it every day, through, over, squashing without concern for the fragile bones beneath. this is the truth and the treachery of the minds will to collect each spec of existence and show drained eyes pitiful reality. Eager? Stubborn...a lifetime to collect. A lifetime to mourn.