Piece back together the rusted remnants of what I wanted.
They fit together with so much between
That my breath displaces all that had been.
The rusted, how they fall away, gently apart, with a matted non-glow
Such that I am questioned with something of an intention was there ever
Something fair that I beheld within my eyes? and I will deny, I will deny
Like a rusting away, apart into a thousand grains of sand.
Who I am as I voice silence is my own wonder, and silent I will always be.
Here then, what I have discovered, is how you are my anger.
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