segments

as I turn and walk away a cold wind

sends chills over my weakened body

while light from a lemon wedge of moon

makes its way through our shattered panes

like a candle burning from both ends

faint light upon a row of photographs

showing sleeping segments of our lives

it seems everyone is hating someone

I utter to no one that I am starving

I tread quietly away on shattered ground

Advertisements