Soft slow Beautiful but Deadly

Soft, slow unravel,

not a single cracking plunge

a thread pulled at dusk.

Chasing one more high,

lungs whisper they have already

learned the cost of air.

Body trembles, cups

empty at the break of night

glass echoes the fall.

Bodies collide, brief

and blunt as a passing storm

what lingers is loss.

Skipping the sunrise,

meals undated in the year

you owe yourself dawn.

Inviting danger,

a small, deliberate risk

survival fades thin.

You push warm hands back,

convinced tenderness is fraud

the arms keep waiting.

Decisions like seams,

stitched in silence and in fear

a coat of small deaths.

Pain speaks in small acts,

louder than the tidy words

it insists, it haunts.

Not today, you say,

but tomorrow’s door stays shut

you refuse the map.

Worth surrenders slow,

hope erodes like coastal cliffs

marrow keeps its ache.

Fragmented dying,

spread across years and midnight

a slow, quiet theft.

Piece by piece you fade,

as if vanishing were soft

the world still keeps score.