his arms aren't his nor his legs nor hands nor feet in his monotony of strung out volition hanging loosely on the one string wrapped around the one part he can call his (the part that keeps beating) waiting to be cut free
I dreamt that I was standing on a empty highway and watching her walk away. I woke up feeling lonely with the cruel memory of holding her tightly in my arms.
I stepped outside last night to go nowhere for a walk when I ran into the moon who grabbed me by the throat and choked me to submission leaving me breathless with stars hanging above me
