at this point

at_this_point

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

my regrets pierce

the heavens like stars

 

my dreams litter the landscape, sparkling

shattered glass in the beating sun. each day

 

the vultures of hope

peck my bleached bones clean — at this point, life

has failed expectation. yet for the gift of fire

I would burn under a thousand suns.

Share your thoughts!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s