literature

ballet of ashes.

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By
dragonair907
Published:
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Literature Text

the ashes which had once been so beautiful,

  so perfect,

     are fluttering to the ground
          
  in lopsided pirouettes.

you're outside my window

for some


reason.


                          you try to catch them
     
           reaching for things you'll never get.

                            i watch these attempts, smirking,

                                                        and i notice too late;

                 
                
                    already i'm grasping at the handle of the ice bucket



                             i'm pushing the window open

                                        further


                                               further


                     and crying,


             "i hate to tell you this,

                        but,

             
                       holy balls,

                             
                                love,



                              your hair,

                 
                            
                             it's on

                     

                          
                         fire."
:icontyperlarryplz:
Hehehehhe. Response to: [link] by ~poeticoutbursts
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