…The attic (VI) Stutter…

Broken strider. Broken stride.
She tells me to run. She tells me to hide.
Though she says hello, it’s insincere.
Seeping black from each pale ear.

Why must you go, she asks again.
Silence is my last refrain.

Fallen attic. Flanked and panicked.
In truth there’s always been a bit of a trick to it.
It seems you’ve neglected to read the sign.
The rules are buried inside your mind.

And though you run, I’ll always follow.
Deepest regrets, here in starlight sleepy hollow

                                                                                                                                                                     —

Half a heart, blue and red.
Her soul now brought to life instead.
Remember well your deep bespoke.
And try to find what’s left unwrote.

Seek it out and you shall find.
The words that these two hide behind.

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