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broken glass under my feet brings flashbacks of broken promises and shattered dreams.
all things unfinished and wounds wide open.
the scars constantly craving to sew themselves shut breathe with their own life.
incomplete.
numb to the pain of it as tolerance to it builds.
what once incapacitated me is now a buzzing of a fly.
only pestering in the silence of an empty room. this bug near my ear now.
begging to be snuffed from its existence.
a 24 hour life span drawm out for years, seeming eons.
someday, this fly shall be swatted by the right one.
allowing me to sleep again and giving it the end it wishes would come.
when it is safe to dream again. when the buzzing of a saw no longer triggers the terrors of nite in my skull. no more will the blood be on my hands when i awake. no more will i clench damp sheets and scream for mercy. someday, it shall sleep eternally, and i may sleep soundly
through the deafening silence.
someday.
