Who are we on our own?

Dismantled by Kristin Kory

There was something in the way 
she dismantled herself— 
the way she pulled fire from the sun 
and burned; 
the way she lay face down 
in the rubble, breathing in 
ash and despair; 
the way she tasted the destruction 
before she carved herself anew 
from the black sky. 

This is an excerpt from a piece I’ve written for my book. 

Freestylin’ To: Echoberyl – A Prey by Bruised Rose Blossoms

how many times 
do I have to scrape the walls 

your face climbs 
the mountain of my heartbreak 

but all I can do 
is rain down upon the landscape 
of our painted past with the fire of regret 

you were wearing black 
and I couldn’t take my hands off your hips 
or my eyes off of the sparkle of mischief 
that was dancing from a thousand yous 

the broken mirror 
on the floor 

the throbbing heart 
in my chest 

something’s got to give 
because I cannot live like this anymore 

but still we dance 
inside the earthquaking halls 
of my dilapidated memory 

and somehow 
if I’m honest 

I still love 
what we were