you wore the clothes of a murderer 
i was dressed just the same 
promise took flight on crow-quills 
used to pen farewells 
written to me  [bad word] knotted their trails 
'round each of our fingers 
snaring our bravery  [bad word] sit where once eyes were, 
their foundations cracking 
sinking in to my face 

light receded as lines blur and motions stirs 
silent rot for my sentience 
a letter i wrote to disease, mirrors me 
 [bad word]  ruins