Below the horizon

With frozen eyes slow widening,
See your cold dawn breaking hard.
Ears white and burning,
Hear facts and truth and fear,
Feel ripped sky under your finger nails,
Bite hard on the purples, blues
A mourning of bruises.
Taste the bitter, swallow the pill,
Drag yourself heavy,
Twelve degrees tight
Below the horizon.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s