Exit

The time has come for an exit.

A hallway. A door.

Chunks of broken mosaic as a welcome mat.

 

The shards are like two skeletons cuddled together

and the tears form pools of blood on the ground

creating a mattress for the decaying.

 

Disengaged phalanges reach for old maybes

with their worn mallow and chipped shells,

maggots finishing off the wrist muscles.

 

This is why endings hurt.

Promises. Forever’s.

Chunks of broken mosaic as a welcome mat.

The End

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