Could it be?
Freedom at last! Or a mirage
Brought on by a bitter past?
So tired,
So sad,
Lost in the land of “once had”
And fighting, so deeply, for something more.

So are you living,
Or dead?
Nothing is certain – a heartbeat, a flutter of lies through locked jaws.

Two pillars, knocked over, the color of plums,
bent up at the ends, straining to hum
through the pain of existence.

And like these, you seemed strong once.
Until your bones spilled out benath you and left you here:

A pile of crumbs,
Feeling so helpless, feeling so numb.

A twist on your lips,
and a colorless face,
eyes searching dimly for a colorful place.