I remember, shades of navy and bite marks on your skin
you stopped wearing black, stopped checking for looks of despair
skies and clouds give me space to think and breathe
contorting photographs that hung in the cemetery where I had buried myself
spirals and lacks of exposure hide what was never there
don’t worry too much; I didn’t have much hope for us
It fell, and shattered at my feet, my unattached hell of a place
kick and scream, once more, for the solace of volatility.