#34

Headless Figure

I live in the mist,
blurring your visions
of thoughts that used to be.
Lying upon your clothes, your hair.
Creeping inside your lungs,
stealing the words you so desperately
want to exhale.

This is a part of what I came up with while writing about the angel statue in class. I don't know, its kind of weird but I think it may serve as a stanza in a longer piece. Oh! The title will definitely be changed once the rest has been written. This title was put into place so that I would know what it was when looking through my documents. Any suggestions on the work so far or suggestions on what I could do with it? Title?