© Lori Lappin, the Witch of WITCHCRAFTS ARTISAN ALCHEMY®

the page
turns the blade
pivoting over and over
a single pointless point
ice dancing with the catatonic living death
terrible, terrible, terrible
terribly bare of breath, the homeless vapors
of some fleshless oblivion
filling an endless silence of black fire
spewing ashes of questions that exist no more
cut off, soundless, voiceless
without will, without reason, hovering there
as placeless corpses smile with wicked delight
embracing the night
cut from the light

falling, falling, falling, falling

damn it! damn it!
I'm still here
stop catching me!
can't you see I don't care?