One hand over my eye, one on my mouth

To know there is no could
no : "we could go back"
"could be what we were"
"could forget what we are"

breaking
the sound of shattering hopes
the sound of blindfolded screams that gag for light

but no honey
theres no turning back
drip memory after memory
into my breathless voice:
of wind, of water, of sun.
of night and day and a difference between both
hold up my hands
and tremble
useless as they are
that i cannot count mistakes or deaths or pleadings
with my fingers.

like a drowned bassline,

i should measure our losses with dried leaves honey, or no, maybe with the hours of the day
but maybe,
maybe if i shatter the clocks,
if i stop the tick tock ticking and ignore the change of light,
then maybe, just maybe,
it wont matter
and i could piece you together
i could burn your skin together, without a scar
and breathe away my own
to show you life

rip this moment honey
like recycled paper
this moment where my insides are turned
inside out
upside in
and i can taste blood
and rust
and dull bruises on my tongue

as you break
and i break
and the clocks
are ticking