Pulled from the box.
The recollection of the clotted scratch but never fade.
Losing nothing but control.
Focused on nothing.
Floorboards decay.
The light of red.
Pulled from the box.
Collapsed fumes of devotion.
Fixation flaked and broken.
The red.
Hallucination of love.
Picked ticks of the clock.
bars of the dead.
Pieces of the clotted flake but never break.
Pulled from the box.
Copyright © death_of_a_poet, All Rights Reserved