.Bleach.Seasons.

I suffocate myself in maple stems and swallowed dead grass.
The congestion of cluttered skies makes me cough.
Looking through melting bark and buildings.
I fall into place with the death of a season.

&.

Paralyzed by the sound of rain.
I run my hands along the windowsill.
Wishing I could feel more than cold glass.
Wishing I were more.

Than cold glass.





&.

I feel nothing when I’m stuck between last breaths and stationary hearts.
Beating out a rhythm that no one can comprehend.
I fall against disintegrating buildings.
And I breathe in air that doesn’t satisfy my lungs.

I.

Disassemble.

The mouth cut into tulips.

I.

Bury.

The [lie]lacs cut into pieces.

&.

I choke on a season never meant to be mine.

&.

While you fucked my heart, I always made love to you.

Smothered with your contamination, I bleach my insides at night.

The cords stick out from my ribs. The lace twisted through my spine.

The leaves crumble as they fall.

Fall crumbles as it leaves.

&.

Just like the seasons.

You always twisted my words.