elise.writer

I am young.
I turn my light out at 10 or 11 in the summer. Everything
is gone, and then it comes back again in the morning.
Time doesn't pass, except for it does, it just doesn't really

I see you

I see you in the way the waves break onto the shore
and their tears fall into the undertoe, hidden
I see you in the broken ring from a gas station
that you left in my living room that looks like a moon

the echoes drained from my throat like
crimson gushing from the open wound
torn through my heart you cried and I
threaded the needle to pierce your tender
skin weary from my own venom that seers

Somewhere buried in the past, before time existed in any way, shape or form, four gods and goddesses resided over the green lands and blue waters.