Mono

Eternity lies in tatters, dangling like a fractured leg,
cast in monotone and clinging to a gnawed prosthetic hip.

The sole remnants of a shattered daydream,
still threaded and ever supporting.

Carrion cast aside,
rotting meat and feathers,
a meagre feast for the crow.

Eyes already chewed from their sockets,
throat torn out clumsily,
organs removed and kept in bag.

Halos hung upon retained reflections,
resist the winds of change,
and sheltered from the bitter chill.

I wish you'd share your bruises, I wish you'd share your lies.