Piles of Painted Echoes

Piles of Painted Echoes
by Joy Renee

My veins run with menthol
In a rush of icy hot.
I cry into my fear
drinking my dry tears
My voice drowning
In a bitter parch.
Despair's silence bellows
A staccato through
The gravel of my grief

The empty accumulates
In piles of painted echoes
He cries into his fear
Drinking his dry tears
His voice catching
On a jagged glitter
Demands shallow peace,
A sanctuary in which
Slow suicide is chief.

Our vows on the altar
In shreds of ragged rage
We cry into our fear
Drinking our dry tears.
Our voices distorted
By pixeled ether,
Distance morphs hope's
Substance into
Treacherous reefs.