Jacey Mismash, Staff Writer

Hot chocolate

dust settling on the rim,

Now cold

cold chocolate,

Unfinished

The bed,

Unmade

crinkled sheets &

damp pillows

dreams withering away,

Crumbling

Broken glass,

a mirror

Bloodstains, 

Shattered identity

& self

Lies & excuses

piled up like laundry

laundry

piled up like laundry

nightmares piled up on reality,

reality suffocating

sweating in dirty clothes

Bloodstains

& Tearstains

& Stains you couldn’t

see taste or touch,

But you could feel without any clothes on

A body, 

Alive

but lifeless

its story

Unfinished,

but its limbs,

Unmoving

mind still spinning, 

empty 

like a carousel desert of children,

of laughter,

of life

This article was originally published in the November 8, 2019 issue.