Stop Loss

Nothing

Still, motionless and silent

My own movement would be a crime

A disruption in the force

There is no quiet whir from a motor

No voices muffled behind walls

I cannot even hear my own heart beating

Color on walls means nothing

Even the words in my head

These sentence fragment thoughts

Not a thing repeat nothing

The emptiness makes me a husk

A thin shell fine like the small white wings

Children find sea shell wings

She sells her wings to save a soul

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s