My Fragile Dusk

estefaaano_writes 

-

breathing in shadows, 

spine pressed to the night

the day's bones fracture, 

clutched with scars, still wet.

the straighter I stand, 

the less it resists,

yet somewhere beneath my worn skin,

a quiet pulse refuses to bow. 

feelings rot slowly. 

even decay holds the scent of earth.

my eyes’ blink is a small death.

my lungs’ air is a fragile rebirth.

forgive the self you wear,

as what it costs to claim it.

for hiding only teaches pain to burrow.

don't rise from your hollow, 

just to strand yourself beneath echoes,

stone-haunted,

alone in my fragile dusk.

but not all ghosts are silent.

I sort through fractured truths, 

my cards turning near,

faces carved in weathered stones,

confessing what they dare not say.

even humor warps,

when it comes straight from denial's throat.

eyes wide for what’s ahead,

haunted by ghosts and dead ends 

settled deep in the recesses of the mind.

guardians mouth their oaths 

from guns that weep mercy.

while my friends and I,

flee before love turns its cold face.

If you rise, 

find us beneath the broken bridge.

bring a stone. 

bring your rage. 

bring my fragile dusk.

I mourn in stereo,

I grieve in echoes.

the sound went strange, 

unrecognizable.

hiding changes nothing. 

ghosts only crawl closer.

If you wake to find me standing, 

eyes fiercely burned open,

alone, 

turning these pages to ash,

think of me.

for alone is where the fiercest fires start,

eyes open is where dawn begins,

and burning it all means 

making space for my fragile dusk to bloom.