Breaking, upwards of the truth-
broken
down
to the grit,
the pieces beneath.
The essence of sadness, combined with
shock and spittle through angst and hatred.
Break, in the utmost foundation;
the line in the undusted,
the crack in the gateway.
Broken
by the bind,
seeping, the cold truth
soaks in
and you wake up,
wet and alone
unknown and blissful,
gone from the grip.
Restart.
Replaced,
Ruined by words.
‘I
think
we
should’,
Break – up.
