Powder

Bedhead


what was once so real now doesn't even exist. and now the memories are going, so just the feelings persist. and what thoughts come back i sometimes try to resist. the last of your strength fell apart first in your fist.

and i had no idea i had any ideas. sometimes i think
i've never thought about anything.

it was warm when you held me, when you dropped down beside me. but i saw your face turn to powder in a year.

and did it do any good to have anyone tell you that things weren't as bad as they had actually become?

and did it make things worse when you hand was held. it was the best for everyone but you.

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