It's just little bit further, but it all looks dead ahead.
Disengage, drift out of phase.
To weigh less than nothing, to be bourn on acrid wind,
a brittle husk of some shed, dead, discarded skin.
Time in waves breaks over her, washed up on some stagnant shore.
Now he's broken every mirror that dared to look her way.
And no one's seen her through the lattice of shattered veins.
He watched her gaze go empty, the color drained from her eyes.
Bringing corpses in their tides, the new moons rise.
Grey clouds pass before the stars; faces veiled by angry scars.
Try to break away.
Try to let go.
It's just a little bit closer, but the lines have all gone dead.
The signal fades, fall out of range.
To say less than nothing, to spit into frozen wind,
to make a sound and be hurt again.
Time is broken then it's gone.
Trying so hard to hold on.