I thumb through the leaves of fallen pleas. Some ripped from the core of my soul’s disease. Others fell without a bruise to the heart’s floor. The decay of ignored dreams smells as sweet as laughter on lies spewed in my eyes. Vibrant colors splash on my toes. Blood cried in currents that never drown me in the undertow. I refuse to hold my breath as I want to exist in your lungs lonely and alone.