Running stitches

a glimmer of hope.

it’s funny how a fading light can convince me I’m home.

But I’m tripping over

entrance mats

Sinking deep into

emerging cracks

Now there’s

running stitches tacking up gaps.

And

it’s easy to forget

when you’re clinging tight onto fraying seams

that love

is not

morsels of feelings

we once

thought we had.

And this love

was only ever

a pin

in wounded souls

avoiding pain.

Tainted

by bitter fingers pointing blame.

Finding comfort

in spiky arms

tightening their grip

around

beating hearts

waiting

to run.

A love

Void of love.

Defined

by all we lacked.

Teetering on the edge of something

or

nothing.

And I’m sparing another second

for a second chance,

but it never comes

And I know

it’s just a figment

a make-believe scrap

of a pointless revolving dance.

and it’s so tempting to pretend

so easy to ignore,

when deafening hearts are beating

That fragile thoughts

are fleeting

That these are all

just pieces

of fragments

we’ve left behind.