Dissertation 14

Hot Cross

The silence we've found always prouder than the voice you lost. 
Clawing through words dropped from lips 
content with a last breath like a heretic. 
Finding a dream of salvation; a hint of reality too involved for imagination. 
This will be a tribute to the years we've spent building so much nothing, 
a homage to our hands lost to empty sounds. 
The loudest days hiding hopeless eyes; 
looking for a lifeline but only breaking ties. 
We are so many lifetimes away from the one we want to be. 
Take your place and play the part. 
Wear your make-up like a weapon.
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