Waiting for you.
at 2 in the morning,
I enter a narrow tunnel
of a lapsed timeline.
Few daggers in the back
still hurts.
Hollow words
laced with promises
mutilated those memories.
Memories; I thought
were the blankets
providing warmth
like a wildfire
on cold nights.
The timeless laughter
that hold our hands
in tough times.
But memories became
a slow poison
eroding my bones,
drying up my blood.
And this flesh crawls
in and out
of the cocoon every day,
counting the
breaths down.