peut être l’oubli

morning’s iridiscent branches spread under the dome of mist; 

frost breaks under my steps as i walk among the tall pine trees in the forest; 

silence tastes like snow on my tongue;

a scream is trapped in my chest - winter’s bird-of-doom

entangled in the hour between sunrise and the end of the world;

why am i following the same trail of mourning, drowning again in guilt and self-pity?

wish i had a home to go to, an embrace waiting for me or a hand to hold mine.

from unfinished thoughts and broken longing, memories fall away like leaves in autumn.

regrets roam, frantic, on the path of new fears.

i’ve got nothing to say to the ghosts hiding in the frozen earth.

i will forget.

i will forget. 

not now. one day.

in oblivion we trust.

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