and so the words, like always, didn’t hold water when it rained down.
filling, saturating, tipping, spilling until the gutters ran dark and there was nothing left to save.
what a beautiful cocoon we built around these lies,
what a shimmering distraction from the fat spider spinning its endless web.
in the end the corner is littered with the silk spun carcasses of your expectations,
stripped of your comforts, your crutches,
suppressing the urge to scream,
knowing there’s no one around for miles.
please, you’re always whispering, hating the sound,
don’t erase it all before I have the chance to burn it down.
the flames have been hot since before the first day, licking at the foundation, scorching the frame,
necessitating the fall.
gravity, as you know, was there all along,
promising the thirsty ground it would have you for its last meal.
and here you are,
clinging to the ledge,
delaying the inevitable while it all falls down around you,
the crackling flames intone
how utterly naive.