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No voices reach my ears,
they travel somewhere deeper,
bounce off the walls and shatter into
a million little pieces.
The vacuum,
my existance.
Everyone vanishes,
eventually.
Always leaving behind souveniers,
a million little pieces,
kept somewhere hidden
under pale skin stretched thin over collarbones,
and fragile eyelids.
Kept warm in forgetful snow.
And so it goes...
©2009 ~DismalxStars
:icondismalxstars:

Author's Comments

First thing I've written in a long time.
The last two lines are an Eliot and a Vonnegut reference.
Enjoy.

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:iconbloodvayne:
brilliantly written. good to see something new from you.

--
...no one said that this life was easy, but did that no one ever live a life this hard... ~jawbreaker - ashtray monument

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January 3
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