I collect my tears in a jar. When I think of you I shed my attachment through drops of longing on my cheek. When the jar fills I’m going to take the tears to your grave and water the flowers I left there. Maybe they can keep them from dying.


Stealing Time Neither Yours Nor Mine

Leaning in, she lays her aura against his, letting his heat chill her spine. Her soft breath brushes eternity over his lips. Skin plays pretend. They thieve these moments, mislaying their hearts. The mundane grinds forward as the moment expires, his breath catching him wondering how long he’d been dead.