the calling of light
phone rings. a reaching hand from the future, starting a process
scratching at my walls
death. change is pain. the body morphs and moulds, it adapts
to sever your past is an act of killing. trying to escape a thing that is always behind you
Breathing new life into something beautiful
an angel in the fading light
at peace, standing before a place you once resided
it was once you and will always colour the walls of your body
accept the change and embrace all that came before
peace