fall.

is bad to say that i've got bruises?

bruises from you.

i've tripped before, scabs that healed over... leaving visible scars over an entrenched body.

it is bad to say that this slip is harder... harder than any slip i've had before?

leaving me unkempt and wondering about an actual break?

strange to think i've never broken a bone, and yet with you i could see it unfold.. play by play...

it's force expanding or fracturing my core.

broken capillaries, flashing a reddish hue waiting for the purple to implode its way around my tattooed sun.

as you kiss the expanding space taking over what little caramel pigment that is left, i smile.

your gift from my fall from grace.